


Seven Days

by LeoArcana



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Angel Dean Winchester, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Bottom Castiel, M/M, Past Lives, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Profound Bond, Riding, Romance, Self-Sacrificing Dean, Slow Burn, Top Dean, Top Dean Winchester, Voyeur Dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-01-18 21:33:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 56,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1443685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeoArcana/pseuds/LeoArcana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Castiel says he and Dean share a profound bond, he doesn't mean just the one forged when he saved Dean from Hell.  He means more of the one created thousands of years ago, the one Dean doesn't remember.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Day: Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _"And God said, "Let there be light," and there was light. God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness. God called the light "day" and the darkness he called "night". And there was evening, and there was morning-- the first day."_ Genesis 1:3-5

They were all in attendance.  They hadn’t ever been so excited for something, they still didn’t even know what it was they were excited for.  But they knew it was something big.  Their father, God, was planning to do something like they’d never seen in all their millennia.  He was going to create something outside of their perfect Heaven.  Something wild, powerful, beautiful and _free_. 

So, here they were.  All angels in existence were gathered along a portion of the grand wall, the portion they’d been told would be the start of this new creation.  The lowest ranked and ordinary angels stood in the back of the crowd, several choosing hover a few feet up to get a better view.  In front of them were the garrison angels, all the soldiers.  There was no war to fight, not yet, but God had told them in time an army would be necessary and it was better to be prepared.  On the stairs leading up the to the stone wall were the higher ranked seraphim, essentially colonels, sergeants and majors.  At the top of the stairs, on the landing next to the flat face of the wall, were the generals; the archangels.

Save for the archangels, they all stood in fairly relaxed stances until a fanfare was heard.  At that, every single military angel stood at perfect attention.  The crowd immediately split in half, moving aside and making way for their father.  He smiled and waved at them, a few nods here and there.  In return, every angel bowed their heads and knelt until he had passed them.  He made his way up the stairs, the seraphim and archangels keeping their rigid at-attention saluting stance. 

“Thank you, at ease, my children,” God said, just loud enough for the seraphim and archangels to hear.

The angels didn’t relax much, clearly too excited and anxious for what was going to be done.  All of them were watching him with eager eyes.  He allowed himself an inward smile and laugh; for their ages, they still looking liked curious fledglings.  He clapped his hands together, raising his head and scanning over the crowd before him.

“For eons, all you’ve known is this place, Heaven,” God started, “I believe it’s time to expand your horizons.  For what I’m going to create, you will all have free roam.”

A few curious whispers drifted through the crowds, but quickly silenced themselves.

“There will be things out there, however.  Things that will do harm.  Which is why I asked that you prepare yourselves.  I believe your elder brothers have done an excellent job of that.”

God turned to nod at the four archangels, who bowed in response.

“I believe you are ready for what awaits you outside this wall.”

God could see the excitement building in their faces, even a few of the seraphim and one archangel seemed to slowly be losing their composure.  He nodded to himself again, turning and walking up to the stone wall.  He closed his eyes, raising a hand and touching his finger tips to the stone.  There was a light ringing, as if a small bell had been struck, that resonated over the now dead silent crowd of angels.  A tiny light appeared where God had touched and, for a moment, it simply glowed.  A few seconds later, the light expanded into a soft brightness rising to the top of the wall from the base and expanding the width of the stairs.  The ringing returned, this time joined with several other rings to make a more melodic tune.  All the angels watched in awe, a few unashamedly letting their jaws drop.  The brightness increased a little more, as did the metallic tune, before it began to fade and grow silent.

When the light faded completely, and the sound stopped, tall bars of pearlescent material stood before them.  The bars were intersected by just a small number of other, more decorative bars with patterns, of the same material to brace the vertical ones.

“These will be known as the Gates of Heaven,” God stated, “They will be your only access in and out of Heaven.”

As much as they admired the pearl gates, several of them, particularly the archangels and seraphim standing closer, took notice of what was on the other side of them.  That is to say, nothing.  There was absolutely _nothing_ on the otherside of those gates.  It was just a void.  The archangels and seraphim cocked their heads and leaned closer, trying to see if there was something they were missing.  The angels in the crowds below stood up higher, a few more taking to the air, to get a better view of the void.

God smirked at their confused faces, raising his hands to the gates and taking hold of two bars.  With a gentle push, the gates swung silently open and gave access to the void.  Then he turned back to the angels and spread his arms.

“Not much, is it?” God asked.

There was murmur of agreement from the angels.

“Nothing but a clean slate.  This is where everything will begin.”

He turned to the archangel on his left, the second oldest and known as the most beautiful of the four.  To him, God offered out his hand.  The archangel tilted his head, glancing to the eldest archangel in silent search for an explanation.  The eldest’s expression remained unchanged, instead only nodding his head toward their father.

“Lucifer,” God called.

The second oldest, Lucifer, turned back to God.  He motioned for the archangel to come closer.  Lucifer lowered his head and walked to stand before God.  He put his hands on the archangel’s shoulders and dipped his head to look him in the eyes.  God moved one hand to cup the side of Lucifer’s face and urge him to look up.

“You are going to have a special part in this,” God spoke.

The archangels and seraphim shifted.  Two seraphim glancing at each other before one gave a mildly concerned look to the eldest archangel.

“Do you know what your name means?” God asked.

“’The Morning Star’,” Lucifer answered.

“Yes.  Do you know what a star is?  Or morning?”             

“…No,” Lucifer admitted.

Both words were quite foreign to the angels.  Heaven was so static and closed off, they knew nothing of such things.  God had explained it lightly to them once before, but without seeing them, they didn’t grasp the concept.

“Because it is your name, you are going to help me create both things.”

Lucifer squinted his eyes in confusion.

“May I have your blade?” God asked.

Lucifer’s blade materialized in his hand.  Not the ordinary angel blade, but an upgraded one; one capable of inflicting harm on other archangels.  God had forged a few weapons for them able to do them harm because he’d said there would be other arch- level creatures.  Still, this was not Lucifer’s primary weapon.  But God was satisfied with it.  He looked over it in his hand, moving his fingers to hold it in a slicing position.  Lucifer tensed, but made no move to retreat or defend himself; he had faith his father would do him no harm.

“This will hurt, but only a little,” God warned.

He pressed the tip of the blade to Lucifer’s neck and slowly dragged it over the skin with enough pressure to cut in.  The brilliant light of his grace poured from the small wound.  God returned the blade to Lucifer’s hand and let go of his shoulder, moving both hands by the wound and waving one to coax a portion of the grace into other hand.  At this point, all the angels were shifting anxiously.  Especially one of the two seraphim who’d glanced at each other earlier; not the one who’d given the eldest archangel a look of concern.

A handful of grace pooled in God’s hand, evidently enough for what he needed it for as he rubbed a thumb over the wound to seal it.  He twirled his free hand above the other, coaxing the grace to act more lively.  Once it was lightly dancing and twisting around his hand, he turned his attention to Lucifer again.

“Lucifer, your name means ‘The Morning Star’ because _you_ ,” God lifted the grace, “Will be the first star.  The star to bring morning on all my creations to come.”

The eldest archangel stiffened slightly, but quickly resettled himself.  God gave him a faint nod before turning to the void.  He moved to the edge, the very edge, of Heaven’s ground and extended his hand.

“ _Let there be light_.”

The grace darted from his hand into the void.  The void gave an almost visible shudder before an inky blackness erupted and quickly bled through it all.  With blackness staining the void, even the sky above Heaven darkened, sending panicked whispers throughout the angels.  While they turned and stared at the darkness, the archangels’ and closer seraphim’s attention was suddenly caught by something in the distance.  A tiny fleck of bright, light gold had appeared.  The light flickered and dimmed slightly, Lucifer barely contained the hurt look on his face, but then flared with unrivaled brilliance; nearly blinding all the angels.

When the light lessened, to a bearable brightness, every single angels’, even the archangels’, jaws had dropped.  Several other small flecks of light appeared within the reach of the first light, ‘stars’, illuminating the darkness the darkness further.  Other lights, different from the stars quickly became visible.  Not all these lights were gold and white like the stars, but rather they contained every color imaginable.  Hazes of violent and pale yellow danced together, dusted by light browns.  Ruby reds and emerald greens streaked between lights, softened by gentle blues and pinks.  White flashed, contained by crystalline blue.  Fiery oranges played with the streaks of red.  These, and hundreds of other artful combinations, blended together in beautiful patterns flecked with small pure lights against the blackness of the void-turned-abyss.

All of them twined and twisted with each other in every direction as they chased the appearing stars across the black expanse.  The gentle spectrum of light brought new soft glows of color to Heaven’s otherwise monochromatic appearance.

“There is more to come,” God announced, “But it will be saved for the next day.  This…universe needs time to expand.  But for now, you may all go out and enjoy it.”

Without another word, nearly every single angel bum-rushed the gates.  They soared out into the infant universe in a swarm and spread out in all directions to get somewhat of an understanding of what had just been created.  Several hundred immediately flew beneath Heaven to see what it was there home was on; which was nothing.  It was floating independently and was more like a piece of the void that hadn’t been swallowed by the darkness and subsequent light.  Others flew to the first star, Lucifer most certainly leading the way there.  Some chased different arcs, lines, and curves of color.  Some flew to random smaller stars.  Either way, the young universe suddenly had an influx of angels all over within.  Rounding off the last of the angels leaving was two archangels, the youngest and eldest, three seraphim, and a foot soldier.  The youngest archangel, deciding not to linger for the others, took off along with one of the seraphim.

One of the seraphim, the one who had appeared concerned for the eldest archangel, motioned for the other to go on ahead of him while he approached the archangel.

“Michael, why did God choose Lucifer?” the seraph asked, “You’re the oldest, why not you?”

“Because it was in his name, Dean,” Michael replied shortly, “It was his plan from the beginning.  Father has other intentions for me.”

Dean knew better than to press Michael further, not that Michael even gave him a chance to.  He was off into the expanse before Dean even had a chance to say anything, leaving Dean and the foot soldier, who was simply walking up the stairs.

“Guess it’s just you and me now,” Dean commented.

“Are you suggesting we fly together?” the soldier snipped.

“Apparently not,” Dean sighed.

Both he and the foot soldier flared their wings, but took off in different directions.  Whichever way the soldier decided to go, Dean paid him no mind.  He was trying to follow the trace of grace left by the other seraph who’d waited a moment for him.  That had been his intention, at least.  Somewhere around a lightyear and a half later, Dean realized he was following a twisting hazel streak more than he was the trail of grace.  He couldn’t even sense the other seraph’s grace now.  Dean shrugged to himself; he hadn’t been looking for the other seraph for any particular reason other than company.  He settled for continuing on down the streak of color until its end.  Then started drifting towards the nearest star, just relaxing and taking in the sight around him.  He wanted to see it all, but he had no intentions of flying through it like some of the others.  He was just going to revel in it.  After all, the day was plenty long and they would surely have time later.

Dean caught glimpses of other colorful arcs and blotches suspended around him, ones of all shades of all colors.  It was beautiful and he couldn’t help but wonder why God hadn’t done this sooner.  Dean closed his eyes with a content sigh and relaxed his wings, forsaking all control of direction and elevation; if either of those were really relevant to anything, given there was no clear up, down, left or right.  His peaceful, aimless drifting was interrupted only by colliding with another angel.

“Sorry, I didn’t—“ Dean started, “Oh, it’s you again.”

“Yes, me again,” the soldier from before deadpanned, “Strange in all this expanse you would quite literally bump into me.”

“Divine chance,” Dean smirked.

“I don’t think Father would have us collide for mere amusement.”

“No, no…” Dean laughed lightly, “He’s probably getting ready for whatever comes tomorrow.  What’s your name?”

“Castiel.”

“Nice name.”

“Thank you.  And your’s?”

“Dean.”

“’Dean’?” Castiel repeated, “As in, Michael’s general?”

“The very one,” Dean grinned, “One rank right under General of the Army Michael.”

“I apologize if I showed any disrespect earlier, I was unaware—“

“Hey, it’s alright.  Not many angels take me for a general at first glance,” Dean shrugged.

“Yes, well, you don’t exactly have a stern look as Michael does,” Castiel commented.

“Who’re you under?” Dean asked.

Heaven’s army as a whole was united, but with so many low-ranked angels, such as Castiel, it had been divided into four groups; each led by an archangel and a seraph or two.  Dean hadn’t yet memorized every single angel in Michael’s faction, but he knew about seventy percent of them.

“Michael’s,” Castiel answered.

And Castiel was in the thirty percent Dean had yet to learn.  But it was fair enough, apparently Castiel hadn’t recognized his superior.

“So, I’ll be seeing more of you then, huh?”

“Yes, I suppose you will,” Castiel replied.

“You just gonna take off on your own again?” Dean asked.

“That was my intent.  Why?”

Dean shrugged.

“I just figured this whole…’universe’ thing is more enjoyable with company.”

“And you’re choosing a bottom-ranked soldier for company?” Castiel questioned.

“Truth be told, I was looking for my brother, but happened on you first.”

“Dean, we are all brothers and sisters,” Castiel stated.

Dean shook his head with a laugh.

“No, I mean, we came from the exact same wavelength or whatever is it Father used to create us.  We’re more closely related than others.”

“I see…Well, I suppose we could journey together for the rest of the day or until we come across your brother,” Castiel conceded.

Dean gave a warm smile at that.  Castiel then motioned for him to lead the way in whichever direction they were to take, giving him the lead since he was the superior.  Dean glanced around and decided on taking an angled ascent off to their left.  There was no reason for picking that direction, he just felt like it.  Castiel trailed a short distance behind him until Dean looked back under his shoulder and wings at him, making a comment for him to glide beside him otherwise it really wasn’t keeping company.  Castiel tilted his head, but gave a light beat of his wings to come up beside Dean.  He found it odd how relaxed and easy going Dean seemed to be for a general; part of the reason he hadn’t immediately recognized him.  All the things he’d heard from other soldiers had painted Dean much differently than this.  Of course, they weren’t in any kind of formal setting at the moment.  It was still possible for Dean to fit the images made of him.

They flew in silence for a long while, Castiel wasn’t exactly sure of how long because he’d been pondering if he should say something or not because Dean seemed perfectly content with the silence.  Lost in his thoughts, Castiel failed to realize Dean had spread his wings to stop and continued to glide past him until the seraph grabbed his wrist to stop him as well, beating his wings a few times so as not to get pulled forward.  The way motion and momentum worked in the universe was strangely different from Heaven.

“What is it?” Castiel asked.

“Can’t you see it?” Dean teased.

“See what?”

“This color.”

Castiel glanced around, the immediate area was lit by a close, twisting, stretched patch of the purest blue either of them had encountered so far.  The aura cast gentle shadows over the both of them as it reached overhead in an attempt to connect with another streak of color, though it failed to do so.

“It’s blue,” Castiel commented.

“Yes, and…?” Dean urged.

“V-very blue?” Castiel guessed.

They had only received basic knowledge of the colors since the Gates of Heaven opened.  They didn’t have names for the different shades and hues yet.  Either way, Castiel’s answer had been incorrect because Dean shook his head and laughed again.

“Yeah, it’s very blue,” Dean agreed, “But I mean, do you recognize it all?”

“No…?”

“It’s the same blue as your eyes.”

Castiel knew his eyes were blue, he had seen his own reflection several times.  But he’d never bothered to stop and memorize the exact shade.  He turned his head up the blue light, studying its rich, shimmering color.  He scowled in disbelief, how could his eyes possible be such a mesmerizing blue?  Castiel looked back at Dean, scanning over his face for any signs of dishonesty.  But there was nothing but genuineness and a trace of child-like excitement, like he was proud for having noticed the comparison.  Seeing he was telling the truth, Castiel could only take it as a compliment.  The nicest one he’d ever received, not that he received many.

“Thank you, that’s um…” Castiel paused awkwardly, “I’m glad you think my eyes are this color.”

“You’re welcome,” Dean beamed.

Dean looked up the peaceful blue again before starting off in another direction.  As they continued on, Castiel started feeling that it was only fair to return the compliment.  He flew just a little ahead of Dean to get a better look at his face.  There were definitely a number of things he could compliment the seraph on, but he thought most of them would be odd.  Especially coming unprompted.  Instead, he focused more on Dean’s eyes; returning the same comparison was perfectly within reason.  _Green_.  He needed to find a vibrant green floating somewhere in the universe.  He analyzed every color intently, almost gliding away from Dean at times until the seraph made some light joke at him.

Castiel soon found a streak of glittering gold that faded to hazel, then green, then to the vibrant green he was looking for.

“There,” Castiel spoke.

“There what?”

“That green,” Castiel pointed to the end of the streak, “That one matches your eyes.”

Dean followed to where he was pointing, seeing the green sparkling at the end of the streak.  It was lively and warm, twisting in on itself.  Where Castiel had been in disbelief about the blue, Dean evidently immediately took the compliment at face value.  Dean flew ahead to the color, stopping right in front of it.  Castiel followed suit, watching Dean admire the magnificent shade of green.  In the light it cast over them, Castiel noticed something else about the seraph’s face; the dusting a slightly discolored dots across his face.  _Freckles,_ his mind suddenly supplied.  It was a strange word, but it worked. 

“Can we touch it?” Dean asked suddenly.

“What?”

“These lights, do you think we can touch them?”

“I…don’t know.  I didn’t think about that.”

Dean tilted his head, biting his lip and trying to decide if he could touch it.  If he _should_ touch.  God hadn’t told them no, hadn’t warned them to be careful.  There was nothing wrong with doing it.  Dean tentatively reached out a hand and moved it into the bright green.  He was greeted with a gentle shock running up his arm, down his spine and to the tips of his wings, making them quiver.  The electric feeling was then followed by a pleasant sensation of warmth.  He quickly retraced his hand, losing all the pleasant feeling, then put his hand back in to see if it returned; it did.  Castiel watched the angel before him, it was starting to get difficult for him to believe this almost child-like angel was anything above a cherub.  But at the same time, without touching the light, he felt a small pang of warmth blossom in his chest.

“Castiel, you should try this,” Dean grinned, immersing his entire arm this time.

“What does it feel like?” Castiel asked.

“It feels…just good and warm,” Dean replied.

Castiel eyed the light before imitating Dean and sticking his arm into the light.  Electricity coursed through him, making his wings quiver at the sensation as well before his was flooded with a soothing warmth.  He shuddered at the feeling, pulling away from it and then instantly missing it.  Dean then suddenly got a look on his face, like he’d come up with some fantastic idea.  Before Castiel could even asked, the seraph was diving into the color.  Going by his shivering, soft laughter and a sigh, it was more enjoyable than just sticking an arm in.  Dean twisted over, flaring his wings and darting out; tendrils of green followed after him a short distance.

“We can move them?” Castiel asked.

“Looks like it,” Dean shrugged.

He dove through the green again, this time fanning his wings just before exiting and managed to pull a sizable portion with him.  Castiel fidgeted before daring to do the same.  The warmth from before was nothing compared to the full bodied sensation of submersing himself entirely.  He was perfectly happy just hovering within the light, watching Dean dart through in attempts to spread it in certain directions.

Once Dean had managed to manipulate the glowing light from a twisting streak to a wavy sheet, he was finally worn out and pleased with himself.

“Are you going to do that to the rest of this streak?” Castiel asked.

“Mmm, not today,” Dean hummed, “That takes kind of a lot of effort.”

“It looked that way,” Castiel responded, “How long do you think it’s been?”

“I’m not sure, but it would probably be a good idea to start going back.  It’s got be nearing the end of the day.”

Castiel nodded, it had already been quite some time since they’d met up.  And with how much distance they’d covered, it would take a while for them to get back to Heaven before the day was over.  There was no rule in place that they had to be back by the end of the day, but neither of them wanted to risk missing the addition to this creation tomorrow.  Castiel tipped his head back, enjoying the light’s warmth for a moment longer before drifting out of it.  Dean followed suit, coming to rest beside him.  They glanced at each other before a thought struck Castiel.

“I don’t see Heaven, which way do we go?”

Dean opened his mouth to answer, but clamped it shut.  He twisted around, in every direction, before his eyes settled on something.

“That’s the Morning Star,” Dean pointed, “If we go there, we should be able to see Heaven, since we could see it from the gates.”

It made sense, but even the Morning Star was a considerable distance away.  Castiel probably wouldn’t have been able to discern it from other stars at this point and was a little impressed Dean could, but he attributed that to Dean being a higher ranked angel.  It did come with a few perks.  Dean took off quickly in that direction, surprising Castiel who struggled to catch up to him.  Trying to catch a six winged seraph would be a challenge for any two-winged foot soldier.  But Dean showed mercy and slowed down enough for him to catch up. 

Once again, their travels were in silence.  But this time it was more comfortable than before.  They still admired the stars and ribbons of colorful lights they passed, they just didn’t stall or stop for them.  Drawing closer to the Morning Star, they could see there were still a few other angels hanging around it, which was a bit of a relief.  One of the angels, another seraph, took notice of the approached and started towards them.

“Dean, where did you go?  I would’ve thought you’d come here first, I’ve been waiting all day,” the seraph spoke.

“This is my brother, Sam,” Dean introduced to Castiel.

“Samuel,” Samuel corrected.

“I just call him ‘Sam’, it sounds better,” Dean smirked, “Sam, this is Castiel.  One of Michael’s.”

“Really?  He looks like he’d belong with Lucifer…” Sam mused.

“I sort of thought the same thing,” Dean agreed, “Has anyone said anything about going back yet?”

“No, but everyone’s starting to make their way back since it’s getting late.”

“Are we gonna have to round up the stragglers?” Dean asked.

“Probably, God says everyone has to be back inside the gates before the day ends,” Sam answered.

“Well…I’ll start with this one,” Dean grinned, turning to Castiel.

“Excuse me?” Castiel questioned.

“Come on, if we have to gather everyone up, I’m starting with you,” Dean answered, “Since you’re right here.”

Dean nudged him with a wing towards the otherside of the star.  Castiel gave him an indignant look, but caught the faintest trace of Dean’s actually serious seraph-general mood.  Without protest, he went along with Dean while Sam stayed behind to start gathering up the angels still by the star.  Along the way, Dean veered off from him, telling him to stay the course, and went to gather other angels he spotted.  By the time they were coming up on the gates, Dean was leading near one hundred fifty angels; Castiel did his best to stay near the front of the pack.  Dean landed on the small strip of ground just outside the gates and moved to the side for the flock of angels to enter, clearly taking a sort of attendance as they went.

Castiel stalled, letting himself fall to the back, much to the annoyance of those behind him.  Once again, he was feeling like he should say something to Dean.  But the serious nature slowly edging into him was making it hard to think of what to say.  When it was only Castiel remaining of the first group, he landed beside Dean and turned to him.

“Thank you…” Castiel managed.

Dean quirked an eyebrow at him.

“For your company,” Castiel explained, “It was more enjoyable than I anticipated.”

For a second, the serious faded from Dean’s face and was replaced with a small smile more akin to what he’d seen earlier.

“You’re welcome.  I’m sure there’ll be more to do tomorrow,” Dean replied.

“Yes.  Perhaps we could explore tomorrow’s addition together…?” Castiel suggested.

“I don’t see why not,” Dean mused, “I’d like that.”

“Good.”

“Now, get inside,” Dean nodded to the gates with a smile, “I’ve still got to help the other seraphim bring everyone in.”

“Right,” Castiel nodded, “I will see you here tomorrow, then?”

“Of course.”

Castiel allowed himself a quick smile before hurrying inside.  He glanced back at Dean, certain he caught the seraph looking at him before taking off in a heartbeat to continue rounding up the other angels.  He felt that same pang of warmth from before, when he’d watched Dean playfully touch and poke at the lights.  It was a strange feeling, but it wasn’t unpleasant.  Seeing another flock of angels coming, this one led by Sam, Castiel quickly moved out of the way and started back towards the sleeping quarters on the otherside of Heaven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so how's this for a start?


	2. The Second Day: Cataclysm

On the second day, all the angels once again gathered at the gates to see what new creation their father had in store.  The ones closest to the base of the stairs, a mixture of garrison foot soldiers and non-militant angels, could see God speaking with Michael and the other three archangels.  After he was finished, the archangels each motioned for their generals to come speak with them.  Castiel dared to be one of the few angels, one of the even fewer militant angels, who chose to hover above the crowd for a better view.  He could see Michael speaking to Dean, who was nodding in acceptance of whatever Michael told him.  When Michael, and the other archangels, had finished speaking, they dismissed their generals to carry out their orders while God turned to speak to the crowd of angels.

“My dearest children, I know you are all excited for this day,” God started, “But unfortunately, I cannot permit you to roam freely this day.”

A majority of the angels failed to hide their hurt feelings, the only ones not put down by the statement were the archangels, seraphim and a few dozen foot soldiers who had been spoken to by the seraphim.  Castiel, one of the soldiers yet to be spoken to, was one of them.

“I will be away from Heaven, working on another creation as you know.  After a short time, you may come see,” God amended, “But it will have to be under the watch of an archangel, seraph or someone of a squadron.  It may not be entirely safe.”

Half of the disgruntled angels settled at that, but several were still displeased they’d have to be babysat after yesterday’s freedom.  Castiel saw Dean approaching and quickly settled back on the ground.  For a moment, he simply stood relaxed.  Until Dean gave him a warning look to remind him that he was a general and Castiel was a foot soldier; and that they were in the presence of the entire Host.  Castiel immediately righted himself, standing at attention along with the other garrison angels by his sides; his squadron.

“Who’s the captain of the squad?” Dean asked.

As said before, he wasn’t entirely familiar with all of Michael’s army.

“I am, sir,” Castiel replied.

Dean gave the slightest smile at that.

“You will be on the tenth rotation for visitation to the new creation,” Dean informed, “You will be on sentry duty until the eleventh rotation arrives.  You are to wait here until either Michael or myself come to escort you.  When your rotation is over, one of us will escort you back and bring the next rotation.  You are not permitted to leave on your own.  Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Any questions?”

Castiel glanced to the angels on either side of him.  They didn’t say anything, but they all wore the same expression egging him to ask a specific question.  He too wanted the answer and conceded.

“Sir, if I may, what is the new creation?” Castiel asked.

Dean glanced at the ground, a weak attempt to hide the excited grin on his face.

“You’ll have to wait and see,” Dean smirked.

Castiel clenched his jaw in annoyance, but made no protest.  Dean nodded and moved onto the next squadron to give them the same orders.  By the time Dean had moved two more squadrons away, Castiel became aware that God was still speaking.  He instantly felt guilty for not paying attention, he was too curious about the new creation, and silently prayed for forgiveness.  As soon as he did, he felt the warm, gentle wave of forgiveness and understanding.  He dipped his head in thanks and made more of an effort to pay attention, though unfortunately, God was nearly done speaking now.

“What you saw yesterday will be little compared to the sight you will soon behold,” God smiled.

With that, he turned and pushed the gates open.  As he stepped out, he was followed by Michael, Lucifer, Sam and Dean; the other two archangels remained to oversee Heaven until the rotations began.  When the gates closed, all the angels dissolved into excited chattering, trying to guess what new creation could possibly warrant such restrictions.  Of course, not being the most creative bunch, they failed to come up with anything plausible.  But that didn’t stop them from trying. 

Castiel didn’t know what to do with so much spare time.  Every rotation would be given plenty of time, even being on sentry duty, to enjoy the new creation.  He was sure of it.  But he was on the tenth rotation; it would feel like forever with this kind of anticipation buzzing through him.  At least he could take comfort in that he was on the last rotation.  

One archangel, Raphael, and his seraph, whose name Castiel didn’t know, remained stationed at the top of the stairs to keep watch over the restless crowd.  The other archangel, Gabriel, and his seraph who Castiel also didn’t know, roamed through the crowds.  He lost track of Gabriel’s seraph, but he could see Gabriel himself.  It looked like he was talking down the angels’ curiosity and then spiking it a minute later with a mischievous grin.  Castiel didn’t want to be tormented with such teasing and tried to maneuver himself away discreetly.  However, Gabriel had noticed and was now following him.  Castiel hoped Gabriel wouldn’t issue a command for him to stop; being an archangel, Castiel would have to obey it.  Thankfully, he didn’t.  Though he did keep popping up in different places all of a sudden; like right in front of him that moment.  Castiel jumped at his sudden appearance, much to Gabriel’s amusement, but quickly recollected himself.

“You wanna know what it is?” Gabriel asked with a coy grin.       

 “I can wait, thank you,” Castiel declined.

“Are you sure?  Because it’s amazing, Father gave us a little preview,” Gabriel teased.

“Yes, I am quite sure.”

“I may as well tell you now.  Since all the angels that come back will be talking about it.  You’ve nine rotations ahead you right?” Gabriel asked, “That’s going to be a lot of angels talking about it.”

“I’ll wait in my quarters.”

Gabriel gave a short laugh with another mischievous grin.  Castiel spun on his heels and started off towards the sleeping quarters designated for the garrison.  Thankfully, Gabriel didn’t pursue him.  He probably went to tease another angel who hadn’t been yet.  Castiel had made it to his quarters, but he’d gotten restless on the way there and continued right past them.  He found himself making laps around Heaven in an attempt to alleviate his ponderings.  On his umpteenth lap around, he caught the reflective flash of the gates opening and a squadron coming through.  Once the squad and accompanying civilians were through, Michael reentered.

“Seventh rotation!” Michael’s voice boomed, “Gather two hundred angels who haven’t been and follow me!”

The seventh rotation already.  Castiel must have been more distracted than he’d thought.  He paused for a moment and watched the seventh rotation, a squad from Michael’s army and one from Lucifer’s, gather up one hundred angels each and hurry to the gates in formation.  Michael did a quick attendance, making sure none of the civilian angels had been on previous rotations.  Satisfied, he led them all through the Gates of Heaven.

The gates swung shut and Castiel became aware of the electric buzz of excitement and awe sweeping through the angels.  Still not wanting to hear any adventures or what it might be, he took to his thoughts and resumed making laps.  A few other angels, getting equally as anxious and not wanting to hear stories just yet, had also taken to flitting about Heaven in an attempt to stay away from those who had already visited.  It almost seemed like the last few rotations before his own were taking longer than the others.  But he did his best to stay patient.

To the angels, it had only been about quarter of a day.  To the yet-to-be-created humans, it would be closer to five hundred years, give or take.  Time moved much more slowly for celestial beings capable of eternal life.  Finally, Cas saw the glimmer of the gates swinging open and the ninth rotation returning; Dean following them this time.  He gave the same order as Michael had, gather two hundred angels who hadn’t visited wherever yet and get into formation.  Castiel all but snatched up the three wandering angels near him and darted over to the gates.  As he turned to help gather more, he was sure he caught a smirk of amusement on the general’s face.  After leading a couple dozen other angels over to the gates, Castiel took his place at the front of the formation as the captain.

“A little anxious, huh?” Dean teased.

Castiel pressed his lips into a thin line, biting back the casual retort he had, and gave a stiff nod.  He needed to remember that the relaxed time together yesterday was not a regular thing.  He couldn’t treat Dean like any other angel of equal rank or lower.  He had to maintain proper, respectful behavior in front of the seraph.  Dean glanced down, amusement playing at his lips again, and nodded.

“Alright then, follow me,” Dean ordered.

Castiel flinched back as Dean flared his wings and took off in the same motion.  A heart beat later Castiel, the squadron and the civilians were off after him.  Dean wasn’t flying as fast as he could, but he was setting a fast pace.  Either they had a quite a distance to travel or Dean was trying to help maximize their time.  It wasn’t a complicated course, almost a perfectly straight line, which gave Castiel the option of looking at the lights— the stars and auras, he reminded himself.  He couldn’t help but ponder what Gabriel had said, that the new creation had something to do with them.  Castiel stared intently at the larger auras that took longer to pass, still trying to figure out Gabriel’s hint.

The next large one he’d be able to stare at was a beautiful shade of magenta, a color name that had recently come to him, littered with tiny sparkling stars.  He let his eyes drift over it slowly, admiring each one until he noticed something off about the aura.  In one of its ribbons, where the color should have been much richer, there was a darker spot.  Castiel cocked his head to the side, knitting his brows together in confusion.

Dean glanced back at him, seeing his confused expression and slowed down just enough that they were even.

“You see it?” Dean asked.

“The dark spot?  Yes,” Castiel answered, “What is it?”

Dean grinned and opened his mouth like he was going to tell Castiel exactly what it was, but then thought better of it.

“You’ll see soon,” Dean promised.

For all the talk building up this new creation, Castiel thought it had better be something truly amazing.  Dean gave a low laugh, beating his wings and taking up his previous lead.  Castiel tried to ignore the dark spot in the aura— no, the dark spot was right behind it.  Either way, he tried to ignore it, but the spot stood out so badly to him now.  He searched the expanse, looking for anything else to distract him.  A shimmering gold and bronze colored aura caught his attention; and so did half of a dark spot near its end.  He stared at it incredulously before huffing and fixing his attention on Dean.

Both Gabriel’s hint and the two dark spots were crawling under his skin, he needed to know what the creation was and he needed to know now.

“Hey,” Dean called.

Castiel tore himself from his thoughts and looked up at Dean.

“Look down there,” Dean nodded below them.

Castiel followed his direction and looked below them.  It was another dark spot, well, sort of dark spot.  Whatever it was dimly lit by nearby stars and was absolutely massive _._   It was a rounded oblong shape with several apparent divots, deep gray in color, and extremely hard.  Castiel’s eyes went wide when he realized the titanic object was lazily and slowly tumbling along in the same direction of them.

“What is it…?!” Castiel repeated, much more urgently.

It looked like, with enough force behind it, something that could easily crash through the walls and Gates of Heaven.  Castiel’s alarm had caught the attention of the other angels who looked down to see the giant below them and likewise became nervous.

“ _That_ ,” Dean nodded towards it again, “Is called an ‘asteroid’.”

“What does it do…?” Castiel asked.

“As far as I know, nothing,” Dean shrugged, “But Father said to be wary of them if they approach anything.”

“Is this what everyone’s so excited about?  This asteroid?”

Dean barked a laugh at him and shook his head.

“Not even close,” Dean grinned, “What I’m going to show you makes this thing look tiny.”

Castiel felt a chill of anticipation run through his body.  He wasn’t sure if it was going to be amazing or frightening because, quite frankly, this asteroid had him feeling a bit nervous.  Castiel tried to shake it off, but didn’t ignore the nervous chatter behind him.  They continued on in their straight path, eventually leaving the slow asteroid behind them.  They passed a few more, though they weren’t as close at that one, but closer than the two ‘dark spots’ Castiel had seen.  Their sizes and shapes varied greatly, but to call any of them small would be an injustice. 

When Dean looked back at him again, with an excited expression, Castiel noticed what was coming up on them.  A massive belt of the floating asteroids, tumbling together; a few of them bashing into each and breaking apart with resonating booms, a testament to the power they held even in their slow speeds.

“Dean, uh— Sir,” Castiel corrected himself, “Do you intend us to fly _through_ that?”

“Yes, I do,” Dean chuckled, “So, look alive and pay attention.”

Dean turned on his back, arching over the first asteroid and under the next.  Castiel scrambled to copy him, narrowly squeezing through them before them crashed into each other.  Being right next to them now, their crashes were nearly deafening as smaller fragments shot off in all directions.  Castiel twisted around to see all the squadron, and following civilians, making it around the debris.

“You’re going to have to be quick, another one is coming for you!” Dean called.

Castiel searched around for him, but couldn’t see him; he must’ve been on the otherside of another asteroid.  What Castiel did see, though, was the one Dean warned him about.  It was nearly the size of the first asteroid he’d seen and was moving much faster.  Castiel squawked and dove straight down, followed by the others.  Immediately, he tucked into a spin to help pull himself up to avoid diving into another one.

“We’re not even a quarter of the way through,” Dean said, appearing beside him suddenly.

“What?”

Dean turned his head towards the far end of the belt, in the direction they had been going.  It was leagues of starlight flickering from the passing asteroids.

“Move,” Dean barked.

The seraph darted forward, followed closely by the others, as a asteroid the size of one of the gates rumbled by.

“We can’t stop like this,” Dean chided, “We have to keep moving, especially if you want a chance to enjoy what’s in store.”

Castiel let out a breath and nodded.  Dean smiled again and twisted out of the way of yet another approaching asteroid.  Castiel paid more attention and copied nearly every move Dean made; likewise, the following angels copied Castiel.

“Sir, I don’t mean to question your judgment,” Castiel called ahead, breathlessly, “But why did we not just fly above or below all this?”

Dean made a face like he hadn’t thought of that, but quickly hid the expression.

“I thought this would be a little more fun.  Up close to all these new things, you know?”

“I don’t think having to avoid potential crushing is in the definition of ‘fun’,” Castiel huffed, “…Sir.”

Dean didn’t reply, instead just continuing to maneuver them through the belt.  A little while longer and they were through it, though many of the civilian angels were quite shaken by it.  The otherside of the belt was much brighter from the starlight passing through the thicker, paler auras.

“These are ‘gas clouds’,” Dean clarified, “Or you could just call them ‘clouds’.  They aren’t the same as the other auras.”

Before Castiel had a chance to ask what he meant, they were being led straight through one.  The auras they had played in yesterday had given them a warm, pleasant buzzing feeling.  These ones, these clouds, were cold and thick.  They weighed down on his wings and filled his senses in the most unpleasant sensation he’d ever felt.  It strained his wings to beat them and to simply glide meant drifting down, away from Dean, who clearly was not struggling.  Maybe it was because he was a seraph or maybe it was because he was leading the tenth rotation through and had adjusted to it; maybe both.  Castiel gritted his teeth and pressed on, checking behind himself to make sure none of the others were succumbing to the weight of the cloud.

They made it through, but it wasn’t long before there was another they passed through.  Castiel was growing less fond of the gas clouds by the minute.  From what he could see of Dean’s face, the seraph didn’t enjoy them too much either.  Castiel made no attempt to hide his relief when they made it out of another one and no more were in sight.  He looked back at the clouds, a wall of ashy greys, blues and bronze hiding the asteroid belt behind it.  He didn’t have time to stare at it, not that he wanted to, because Dean made another sound of warning.  They may have been through the belt, but there was still a considerable number of asteroid drifting around them.

“Almost there,” Dean called.

Castiel tilted and drifted to the side to see around Dean.  A flat ring of hundreds of asteroids, nothing like the belt, dusted with thin gas clouds encircled a blazing star.  Its light shot out from either side of the ring in near-blinding columns; Dean was leading them straight towards it.  Dean was clearly barely able to contain his excitement now, evidenced by him picking up speed and leaving the others to struggle to keep up.  As they drew closer to the blazing star, other objects within the asteroids started coming into view.  These ones looked different, however.  They were perfectly round, colored and Dean had been right; they were quickly making the asteroids look tiny.  These new things were just _enormous_.  Even the smallest one, the one nearest to them, was bigger than any of the asteroids they’d seen.

Dean soared past it, moving slightly towards it before pulling away.  Castiel thought he’d done it on purpose until he passed just as close and felt a tug, as did every other angel.  They continued past the dark blue, nearly black sphere and were moving towards two light blue ones.  Dean tilted to his side and flew through them, on the left of the first and right of the second, but still wavered towards each of them as he past them.  Castiel grimaced as he led the others to mimic the seraph, Dean just couldn’t lead them under or over or around them.  If Castiel had known where they were going, that’s exactly what he’d do.  But he didn’t and Dean knew it.  Though Castiel did have to admit, this was now a little more enjoyable that they weren’t dodging asteroids.

Arching around the second blue sphere, which strangely enough, had a near-white ring floating around it, another sphere came into view.  A soft, light brownish color and almost two times the size of the blue spheres with a wide ring of tiny asteroids, even smaller than the ones they’d seen, encircling it.  Dean flew low, just above the ring and kept himself tilted away from the sphere.  Dean glanced back at them to make they were all still together, then twisted onto his back.

“Planets,” Dean stated.

“What?”

“That’s what these things are called, ‘planets’.”

Castiel looked back to the beige colored ‘planet’, it was a fitting name.  Dean righted himself and continued on.  When Castiel turned his attention back to the seraph, another planet came into view.  This one was so titanic that it managed to dwarf the four planets they’d passed.  It was red, brown, orange, light yellow and all of it colors collided and swirled in belt around the planet.  They weren’t even close to it yet and Castiel could feel its powerful tug pulling him closer. 

“Down!” Dean ordered.

Instinctively, Castiel did as he was told.  He angled down and was immediately propelled faster than he thought he could go, as were the others.  The planet still held a pull on him, but now it felt like more of a rope swinging him underneath the behemoth planet.  On the upturn, he felt the planet release its hold on him and fling him upwards.  He tumbled through the space for a minute before gaining his bearings and righting himself, only to see Dean a little ways off and laughing.  Castiel scowled in slight embarrassment, but it was lessened by the fact the squadron and civilians were subjected to the same thing.  Some more drastically so.

Dean waved off his laughter, resuming a more professional composure and kept going.  The star in the center burned brightly, not even flicking for the small belt of asteroids flowing in a wide arc.  This one Dean simply flew over, the asteroids weren’t big enough for any kind of ‘fun’.  The next planet, a rich red colored one, was small, but only in comparison to the one they’d been flung around by.  Not far behind that one was another planet wrapped in all shades of gray and white; near black in a few parts.  Just barely to the right was a smaller one; one of graying-white with small divots, but still round.

“That’s not a planet,” Dean commented, “That’s a moon.”

Castiel scanned over it again, trying to understand why all these large objects had different names.  He couldn’t figure out if they were named by color, size, location…

“We’re going there,” Dean said.

Castiel followed his gaze.

“We’re going to land on a planet?”

“Yeah, but careful not to come in too fast,” Dean warned, “You might lose a few feathers.”

He couldn’t tell if that was a joke or not, but he was going to listen to the advice.  Dean, however, ignored his own advice.  Tucking his wings in as close as he could, twisting over in an unnecessary arch and diving straight towards the light colored surface.  He watched as the white of the sphere parted as Dean pierced through it.  Castiel flared his wings as he felt the planet pulling him in, just like the others had done.  The closer he got, the faster it began to draw him in.  He shifted and stretched his wings further, but it did nothing to slow his speed; his wings were being pushed back.  An odd sensation overwhelmed him as he fell through the surface of what was apparently not part of the planet, then everything began to feel hotter as he accelerated.  He began to beat his wings back in another attempt to slow his descent; it didn’t help much.  He could feel invisible licks of heat— _fire_ teasing at his skin and feathers. 

The white encircling the planet didn’t part for Castiel as it had for Dean.  Well, it did, but being the one who was falling and not watching, he couldn’t see it.  The weightless, cool things whipped past him, a few managing to nick at him, then all of a sudden all the white was gone.  It was just an expanse of brown— _land_ charging up at him rapidly.  Castiel frantically beat his wings, now becoming desperate not to hit the land so hard.  Almost immediately, Castiel was thrown into a tumbling spiral and unable to determine up from down, everything was flashing in front of him too fast.

The he was jerked to a stop, suspended upside down and feeling a firm grip on his ankle.  He blinked several times, stunned by the stopping and momentarily confused why land was only about twenty feet above him.  Then he glanced up to see Dean holding him by the ankle with a look mixed between disbelief, concern, relief and slight amusement.  He pulled Castiel up enough for him to single handedly flip him upright and regain his bearings.  Before Castiel could say anything, both of them noticed bright lights rapidly falling through the white above them.

“Why is this so hard?” Dean groaned.

Dean was off in a heartbeat, his wings sending a bluster that nearly tipped Castiel upside down again.  Just as he balanced himself again, he was thrown off by another rush; this one caused by Michael.  Then Lucifer.  Then Sam.  The four of them went streaking towards the falling lights, the other angels, leaving their own brilliant trail behind them.  Soon, the lights of the falling angels were snuffed out, one at a time and in quick succession.  None of them had come as close to the land than Castiel had.  That was good for them, but he couldn’t help but feel slightly jaded at it.

With the angels alighting on the ground safely now, the two archangels and seraphs grouped them all back together and the garrison angels quickly fell into formation.  Castiel could hear God speaking to them, telling them something about something called ‘sky’, ‘air’ and ‘night’, whatever those were, but he was finding it hard to pay attention because of the clouds beginning to shift around.  Once again, when he realized it, he prayed for forgiveness and it was granted to him.  He wasn’t the only one.  Not a single civilian angel was paying the slightest bit of attention and the militant angels weren’t doing much better.  Castiel glanced around, relieved he wasn’t the only curious angel, and saw Dean perched on an elevated bit of land, staring up at the sheet of white and gray.

He followed his gaze back up, seeing what they’d fallen through drifting overhead.  _Clouds_.  Castiel knitted his brows together, tilting his head.  That heavy substance they’d flown through outside of the planet was a cloud, these were nothing like that.  _Different kind of cloud._  The clouds drifted and mingled in various shades of white and gray, but they never parted.  Even the light of the star not too far from the planet had a difficult time breaching the clouds.

Castiel’s gaze trailed along a particularly dark cloud, leading him back to God.  He was then made aware that God had finished speaking and given them their rules.  Castiel paled upon realizing he had no idea what the rules were or what he was supposed to do.  Castiel shifted guiltily, sliding his eyes over to the angel next to him.  The other was his second in command for the garrison, an angel named ‘Balthazar’.

“A little busy gawking?” Balthazar asked.

“…A little, yes,” Castiel replied sheepishly.

“Quite a bit to look at,” Balthazar said, a slight teasing tone in his voice, “I suppose you need me to repeat what Father said?”

“If you would.”

“Basically, we just need to make sure none of the civilians get themselves into any sort of predicament.  We can’t let any of them wander off alone,” Balthazar answered, “And he said our rotation is two nights.”

“’Nights’?”

Balthazar fixed him with a look of disbelief.

“When _this_ ,” Balthazar spread his arms, “Becomes dark.”

“It gets darker than this?”

“…Honestly, why you’re captain is beyond me,” Balthazar sighed, “Why don’t you have Dean explain everything again?”

“Why would I ask D—“

“Because he’s coming this way.”

Castiel tensed as Balthazar saluted the higher ranked angel approaching.  A glare from Balthazar prompted Castiel to turn and do the same.  Dean waved off them off, signaling for them to just relax.  He was less strict about that than the archangels were, especially if it was a more personal sort of situation.  He dismissed Balthazar to go keep an eye on some of the civilians, like they were supposed to be doing, but the look he gave Castiel told him to stay there.  Dean waited a minute for Balthazar to be a good distance away before speaking.

“Didn’t pay any attention, did you?” Dean asked, a light smirk playing at his lips.

“I— No, I’m sorry, I should’ve—“

“Hey, it’s alright.  I know Father already forgave you, plus it’s not a big deal,” Dean shrugged, “I didn’t pay attention either.”

“So I noticed,” Castiel replied, “But this is also the tenth time you’ve heard it.”

“I didn’t pay attention the first time either,” Dean laughed, “Michael wasn’t too happy about that.”

Castiel stared at Dean in disbelief.  He was a general.  Michael’s general, no less.  He should be one of the most attentive and strictest angels in the entire Host.

“Guess that means I’ll have to re-explain everything, huh?”

“Uh, yes, I suppose you’ll have to.  I would rather not be the only one unaware of what a sky or air or whatever else is.”

Dean shook his head, glancing at the ground before looking up at Castiel.  He hummed to himself, debating what to explain first.

“Well, I guess I should start with air,” Dean decided.

Castiel shifted, awaiting a long explanation.  Instead, he was given the demonstration of Dean giving a single, powerful beat of his wings that resulted in another bluster and bits of the land stirring up.  Castiel scowled, waving his hand in front of his face to chase the tiny particles away from his face and ruffling his feathers to resettle them.

“That’s air.  You can’t see it and you can really only feel it when it moves,” Dean said.

“Is it going to be that unpleasant when it moves?” Castiel snipped.

“No, that was dust,” Dean grinned.

Castiel huffed.

“The sky,” Dean looked upward, “Is all that up there.”

“Balthazar said it becomes dark.”

“Yeah,” Dean sighed, “This whole place is spinning.  When where we are turns away from the star, it becomes black.  That’s why Father wanted sentries, to keep civilians out of the dark.  You won’t be able to see anything.”

“Why not?” Castiel asked.

“Well, because of those,” Dean nodded upwards.

“The clouds?”

“Yeah.  They’re too thick for the light of other stars to come in.”

“Why do they stay there?  Does Father want it to be dark here?”

“He doesn’t want it to be dark, he said it’ll change tomorrow,” Dean shrugged, “They stay there because of the atmosphere.”

“’Atmosphere’?”

“It’s like this invisible kind of shield for planets, it keeps everything contained to the planet,” Dean answered, “It’s also what started to burn you when you were coming.”

“I tried to go slow as you advised, but it seemed I only went faster…”

“That was gravity,” Dean stated, “It’s…this weird force that all these…bodies have.  The bigger the body, the stronger the gravity.  It keeps everything close and grounded.  That’s why we can’t just float down here.”

Castiel seemed slightly bothered by that.  He decided to try to float anyway, despite what Dean just told, and jumped up.  Only to be promptly brought back down and landing roughly on his rear.

“I just told you, you can’t,” Dean said incredulously. 

Castiel pushed himself back to his feet, dusting himself off and not even bothering with a response.  He just looked at Dean as though nothing had happened.  The seraph just rolled his eyes and folded his arms.

“Is there more to this planet than this?” Castiel asked, changing the subject, “This hardly seems to require the length of time the rotations have had.”

“No, there’s more.  It’s not just a flat rock.”

“I could see that from outside,” Castiel deadpanned.

“Okay then,” Dean huffed, “It’s not a perfect sphere.”

At that, Castiel seemed intrigued and Dean grinned.  He turned and took off in another flurry of dust and debris.  Castiel shielded himself from the debris this time and shook the dust from his feathers before taking off after Dean.  He caught up with him easily, though keeping a distance from him due to their wing spans and not knowing where exactly they were going.  A few moments of silence passed before Castiel realized the clouds were becoming darker.

“Is this…night?” Castiel asked.

“The start of it,” Dean confirmed, “We have to keep the others out of the dark, but Father also wants everyone to have a chance to explore.  Half of the squadrons will be guarding it for the first pass, keeping the angels away from the darkness.  On the second pass, the squads switch.”

“Why is it so dangerous?”

“Because there are things happening in it, I don’t know what, but they’re loud and they make the ground quake.  Whatever it is, it’s been changing the Earth’s shape.”

“Is that why you said it’s not a perfect sphere?”

“Exactly.  Like here.”

Dean tilted downwards and Castiel followed.  The ground was no longer smooth here, but instead pillars of strange shapes and sizes rose fairly high from it.  Dean led them down to a wide stretch of raised flat ground, taking quick steps as he made contact to help slow himself down.  Castiel was less graceful, he stumbled a few times and flared his wings for balance.  He straightened himself up and walked up beside Dean, who had moved closer to the edge of the ground.  He glanced at the seraph, who was staring out at the expanse before them, and followed his gaze.  The ground before them, what they’d just flown over, was flat and barren; stretching farther than Castiel could see.  The light brown land rose to meet the seemingly endless gray, and darkening, blanket of clouds in the distance. _Horizon._

So far, this was not nearly as joyous as the previous day had been.  This Earth was dismal, especially in comparison to the universe and even Heaven with its white washed landscape; at least Heaven had definition to it and was now relieved by a painted sky.  Castiel looked around, seeing several other portions of flat ground elevated above the rest.  _Plateau._   Other than those, there was little else.

“Are we just supposed to stand here?” Castiel asked.

“More or less,” Dean shrugged, “ _You_ can move around, up and down the line of darkness to make sure no one is there when it comes.”

“But you…?”

“I have to stay here.  Just like Sam, Michael and Lucifer.  Michael’s further down that way,” Dean nodded to the left, “We have to stay here, a little ways in the darkness to get anyone who slips by the squads.  Sam and Lucifer are on the otherside of the night, where it lifts.  Guess ‘Morning Star’ gets to bring morning, huh?”

Dean grinned at his own joke and Castiel quirked a small smile.                  Castiel opened his mouth to ask another question, but was cut off by a distant rumble.  The sound echoed deep in approaching night, causing the small flecks of land, _pebbles,_ to tremble and dance on the plateau.  He looked in concern from the dancing pebbles to the blackness on the opposite horizon, then to Dean.  The seraph only seemed mildly bothered by it, glancing back to check the proximity of the night.  He thought on it for a moment before deciding that he had enough to sit down on the edge of the plateau, no longer shaking, before the night would force him to move on. 

“Why don’t you make a couple rounds?” Dean suggested.

“I am content here,” Castiel murmured, tearing his gaze from the darkness, “Or am I actually supposed to?  You made it sound as if there was a choice.”

“Yeah, you’re supposed to,” Dean laughed dryly, “But I don’t think anyone’ll get made if you don’t.”

“If there are no repercussions, I think I will stay here.”

Castiel walked over to the edge of the plateau and sat down on the edge, just a wing’s length from Dean.  He caught a glimpse of a smirk on the other’s face, just before he ducked his head to hide it and Castiel felt himself smile a little at that.  He sighed and looked out at the horizon again; the clouds had darkened to rough and intimidating shade of gray, blocking out a considerable amount of light already.  A chilling rush of air _, wind_ , swept across the plateau and made Castiel convulse shortly at its feeling.  Dean chuckled at him, unfazed by it.  Castiel sucked in a breath and huffed, crossing his arms and tucking his wings closer for warmth and making a pointed attempt not to look at Dean.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw him shake his head and bracing his hands on the edge.  Dean shifted over, only a small amount, and extended one wing to provide a buffer between Castiel and the now insistent wind at his back.

“Thank you,” Castiel mumbled.

Dean just shrugged again with a half grin.  Another rumble tore through the air, this one much closer and more powerful.  The ground quaked violently beneath them, enough for Castiel to grip the edge and steel himself.  Dean wavered slightly, choosing not to brace himself as he twisted around to check the night.  The ground continued to quake as the rumbling resonated around them, both with successive waves of power.  The roaring sound _, noise_ , reached a near deafening level and forced Castiel to let go of the edge and cover his ears.  Suddenly, he was being hauled up by Dean who was trying to yell something at him.  He stared in confusion at the seraph, tilting and shaking his head in lack of understanding.  Dean scowled and shoot a glare towards the darkness, as if that were able to influence it to be silent.

Eventually the noise began to subside and ground grew calmer.  By this time, the sky was no longer a dark gray, but nearly black itself.  None of the expanse that had been behind them when they sat was visible and all of it in front of them was becoming difficult to see.  With it now quieter, Dean repeated himself.

“You should go now, make sure no one’s lingering.”

There was a timbre to Dean’s voice that told him this was not a suggestion.  Castiel nodded and took off, leaving the seraph behind on the plateau.  Castiel flew in a straight line, parallel to the crawling darkness.  Well, he thought it was straight.  He was subconsciously keeping a fixed distance between himself and the night.  As he soared through the darkening sky, he saw several others of his squadron, as well as other squadrons, sweeping over the land in search of any angel fool enough not to run from the dark.

Another roar filled the air and Castiel could see the ground quaking below him, even the air trembled.  He checked back behind himself, seeing the darkness had swallowed the plateaus entirely already.  There were no silhouettes or vague outlines of the giant raised portions of land, they were just gone in the darkness entirely.  Castiel felt concern for Dean rise up in his stomach, but he quickly reminded himself that Dean was a _seraph_ ; bested only by God and the archangels.  He would be fine, especially if there was no one who needed any saving. 

When Castiel turned his head back, he was greeted with the sudden appearance and rapid approach of a pillar of earth.  In a panic, he swerved to the side, but wasn’t fast enough; his left wing collided with the pillar and whipped him around before dropping him.  The pillar wasn’t smooth and straight up; that would be too merciful.  He hit the deformed pillar several times, each collision managing to flip him one way or the other and accompanied by sick sounding cracks.  Castiel hit the ground with a boneless flump, followed by several loose bits of earth.  _Rocks._   He laid still for a long moment, dazed by the impacts, before pushing himself up.  Everything ached and trembled with his effort, but the night consuming everything around him was enough for him to push it aside.  He forced himself to his feet and attempted to spread his wings, only to be alarmed and wincing when the left one failed to move.  He tried again, but the disfigured appendage didn’t comply.  With no other choice, he started to walk, working his way up to a run.

The more he moved, the more cracks he heard from his own body.  Each crack was coming from where one had occurred just a minute ago, followed by a sense of twisted relief; he was healing.  He kept running, trying to get around the massive pillar and run away from the night, and hoped the next healing snap would be in his wing.  It wasn’t, everything else healed first.  And, unfortunately, by the time his wing snapped back into place, he was enveloped in the night.

It was blacker than the universe had been, just a breath before the eruption of lights.  Even the heavy layer of clouds above were pitch black; no light whatsoever was reaching him.  A thunderous, deafening roar erupted all around him, shaking the ground more violently than before.  Castiel fell to the ground and could swear he felt it splitting beneath his fingers.  He scrambled frantically to his feet, spreading his now healed wings and took off, only to collide headfirst with some unseen mass and immediately found himself laying on the quaking earth.  He felt himself drop lower suddenly, then he was more than certain the ground was opening up to swallow him. 

Castiel bolted straight up, believing it was the only safe option.  He would fly away from the ground, back through the heavy clouds and out of the night.  Above all the rumbling, he became aware of a distant whirring sound that was very clearly coming for him.  Whatever was making the sound struck his leg, turning him upside down and throwing his bearings.  Several more whirring sounds became audible for only a second before another thundering roar tore through, this one shaking the even the air as the other had.  Two more masses clipped him before he was retreating to the ground for safety.  The only reason he knew which was down was because Dean had told him gravity pulled things towards the planet; the way his clothing hung told him which way gravity was pulling.

The ground continued to split, now shifting and raising, beneath him and he was once more running in a panic.  He wasn’t going to get out of the night on his own and everything was so loud there was no way anyone was going to hear him.  But that didn’t stop him from taking a deep breath to try anyway.

“ _Dean!_ ”

The ground heaved and dropped him further.

“ _DEAN!”_

The earth buckled and vaulted him forward.  He stumbled and landed flat on the ground, pushing himself up.  He paused then, hearing a sound piercing through all the chaotic noise.  Castiel twisted around, in what he thought would be a vain search of the source, and spotted a tiny glimmer.  Hope blossomed in his chest as the gleam rocketed closer.  The light it brought began to illuminate just what was happening around him and it frightened him.  The earth was breaking itself, raising itself into towering, jagged walls.  _Mountains_.  Chunks of earth raced down the sides, some being flung by the buckling earth.  The earth continued to split and open, making way for the mountains.  A crack shot across the ground, right for Castiel and attempted to devour him.  He felt himself fall, reaching out for the light.

He was violently snatched up away from the split and flying at a blistering pace.  Realizing he’d been saved, Castiel let out choked breath and looked up at the light; the burning grace of an angel.  Dean held vice-like grip on his upper arm, focusing straight ahead and dodging the flying hunks of earth.  He didn’t acknowledge Castiel.  He dove down, taking wide turn and coming close the angered earth before pulling up.  They were racing across the fracturing ground fast enough that Castiel found himself shielding himself from the whipping winds.

Then it was suddenly over; the air was gentle, Dean’s grip lessened and they were slowing down.  Castiel dared to uncurl himself and found everything to be nearly blindingly bright for a minute as his eyes adjusted.  Dean came to a stop on soft earth, but held Castiel until he found his footing.  Castiel opened his mouth to thank him, but was caught off guard by the stern look on the seraph’s face.  If Castiel hadn’t known him to be laid back first, he would’ve withered completely under it.

“I-I’m sorry,” Castiel rushed, “I didn’t…I was—“

“What excuse could you possibly have?”

Castiel snapped his mouth shut; that wasn’t Dean.  He spun on his heels and saw Michael striding towards him.  He knew he should stand up straight and salute the archangel, but between Dean’s stern, emotionless gaze and Michael’s clearly angry one, he found himself petrified.

“It was a simple order,” Michael growled, “Stay away from the night and keep the others away!”            

“I was doing just that, s-sir,” Castiel forced, “But I…I was distracted.  Only for a moment.”

“By _what_?” Michael snapped, “There was nothing!”

“B-by, um…”

“ _Castiel_ ,” Michael growled.

“I-I was concerned…f-for Dean,” Castiel mumbled.

He sensed Dean tense and shift behind him while Michael stared incredulously at him.  Michael’s eyes scanned over him, at least a dozen times, before he glanced at Dean and then back at him.

“Why would you be concerned for one of the most capable angels in the _entire garrison_?” Michael asked.

“I don’t know, I just... He said the night was dangerous for angels a-and he stayed behind when it came and—“

“Enough,” Michael cut.

Castiel snapped his mouth shut.

“You realize you put him in more danger because of this,” Michael said, “Were it not for you, he could have been out of the night much sooner.  Before any of the chaos within it caught up.”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel bowed his head, “Please, forgive me.”

“I am not the one you should be asking for forgiveness,” Michael snipped, “It wasn’t me you put in danger.”

Castiel swallowed thickly, slowly turning back to face Dean.  The seraph still stood tense, but his look was significantly less seriously.  In fact, there was a trace of surprise.

“I’m…I am deeply sorry,” Castiel murmured, “It was not my intent to endanger you.”

Dean’s eyes darted to the ground, about the same spot Castiel’s were fixed on, then to Michael, the side and lastly to Castiel.

“It’s alright,” Dean replied.

Castiel heard Michael hum, no doubt there was dislike in his tone.  But he was thankful when his hum was accompanied by a beat of wings.  Castiel relaxed immediately, falling to his knees in relief.  Dean remained standing, but was noticeably less tense.

“You were worried about me?” Dean asked.

Castiel nodded.

“Why?”

Dean’s tone wasn’t condescending like Michael’s, he was genuinely curious why a _foot soldier_ was concerned for a _seraph._   But Castiel didn’t have an answer for him, he didn’t fully understand it himself.  Dean didn’t press the topic, he just nodding and sat down across from him.

“You alright?” Dean asked, ducking his head to look at Castiel better.

“Y-yes, I’m fine.  Everything healed quickly,” Castiel replied, “I suppose I’m just a little shaken now.”

“Good,” Dean breathed, “Because it is your turn to freely explore Earth.”

“I think I’m quite content with what I have seen.”

“Whatever you wanna do is fine, but, uh, the night is coming so maybe you want to rethink that?”

“It’s coming again?”

“It never stops, it circles around the planet.  It was faster and safer to get you out by going ahead of it than through it to the other side.”

“Then yes, I’ll do some ‘exploring’,” Castiel sighed, “Will you…?”

“I still have to stay,” Dean answered softly.

The tone of dejection in Dean’s voice was not missed.

“For how long?” Castiel asked, “How long will the night be dangerous?  Or will it always be?”

“No, no, thankfully,” Dean smiled, “It’s only for today.  Then the night will be nothing to fear.”

“Good.”

Dean stood up and dusting himself off before offering a hand to Castiel.  Castiel blinked curiously, but accepted the offer anyway; his body was still trembling slightly from the ordeal. 

“…Perhaps I…” Castiel started, “Could start my exploring by going back with you…?”

Dean tilted his head.

“I missed a significant amount of sightseeing, I assume, with how fast you were flying and shielding myself,” Castiel explained, “I’d like to see it before night takes over.  If it hasn’t already.”

Dean grinned, glancing at the ground and shifting.  He regained his composure and looked at Castiel with a slightly more controlled expression.

“No, I don’t think it has.  And it’s your free time, you can do whatever you want,” Dean reminded him.

“Then that is what I want to do,” Castiel stated.

“Well then, uh, we should get going before Michael gets upset.”

“Yes, I would prefer not to anger him again.”

Dean nodded in agreement, spreading his wings and taking off; though in less of a flurry than before.  Castiel was right behind him, following him at a leisurely pace.  Dean noticed Castiel was trailing slightly and slowed down just a fraction until they were side by side.  They were separated by only the space required for their wings, something Castiel grimaced inwardly at given the sizes.  One of his alone was nearly ten feet.  The longest of Dean’s, the middle one, was nearly sixteen feet.  But the distance was really Castiel’s only complaint. 

Well, that and the featureless earth beneath him.  He had thought there’d be something to look at; more plateaus, mountains, anything.  But there wasn’t, it was flat earth, not yet mangled by the night.

Dean rose higher, coming just to beneath the lowest lying layer of clouds, and twisted over onto his back.  Castiel furrowed his brow at him, trying to understand how he wasn’t already falling back to the earth.  Dean reached out a hand and touched it to the clouds, his fingers splitting the clouds and leaving small, wispy trails.  He retracted his hand, examining it for a minute before turning back onto his stomach and gliding down over to Castiel.  Their wingspans made proximity an issue, obviously, but Dean remedied that by flying literally less than a foot above Castiel, making him tense, and held out his hand.

“Look at this,” Dean prompted.

Castiel’s eyes flicked to the hand below his face.  The skin was glimmering, trails of something weaving and running down and flicking off at his wrist.

“What is it?” Castiel asked.

“I don’t know,” Dean lifted away from him and returned to his side, “But it’s kind of neat.  You should touch it.”

“What’s it feel like?”

“Just…cold?” Dean guessed.

There wasn’t a word for it yet and there wouldn’t be until tomorrow.  But Castiel flew up to touch the clouds, though not daring to fly on his back.  He reached up, fingers spread, and dragged his hand through a cloud.  Like Dean’s, his came away with the same glistening substance.  He turned his hand over, marveling at its gleam before the wind blew it away.  Castiel shook the remainder off, turning his head towards Dean, who was once again up beside the clouds and sticking his hand in.  Castiel shook his head, suppressing a laugh; Dean noticed it anyways and shot him a playful scowl. 

However, the playfulness ebbed as they both realized the clouds were getting darker.  They were coming up on the night.  Castiel made no effort to hide the anxiety and disappointment on his face.

“You don’t have to go any closer,” Dean offered.

“I know, and I don’t want to, but…”

“There’s others you can fly with,” Dean said, a soft forced smile on his face.

“Yes, I suppose there are,” Castiel mused.

“Yeah, go fly around with them.  You’re gonna want to see everything before the rotation’s over and we go back for the day.”

“You make it sound as though something more than the night is going to happen,” Castiel guessed.

“That’s the rumors,” Dean grinned.

Just looking at him, Castiel knew it wasn’t a rumor.  Dean knew what was going to happen, or at least he had a good idea of it.  Dean folded his wings in, letting gravity take hold and pull him down to the flat surface.  Castiel angled for the earth as well, though once again not daring to mimic Dean.  He seemed to like showing off a bit.  Castiel watched as he dove to the ground, flaring his wings at the last minute and striking it with a deep rumble.  The ground buckled and cracked beneath him, though it was absolutely nothing compared to what Castiel had witness the night doing.  This time, Castiel managed to land gracefully beside him.  Dean glanced at him curiously, as if he’d thought that maybe Castiel would keep flying.

“I’m not entirely sure where the others are, so I thought…I could maybe wait here until I saw one of them,” Castiel explained, “I’d rather not be off exploring on my own.”

“’Fraid you’ll get lost?” Dean guessed.

“...Something like that,” Castiel sighed.

It was something like that, but he wasn’t entirely sure what _that_ was.  He turned to face the night on the horizon; watching it now, he could see it moved fairly quick.  It would be on them soon and he’d have to leave regardless of seeing another angel or not.  Evidently, though, it would not be on them soon enough to stop Dean from dropping to the ground and settling in the small dent he’d made.   _Crater._   Castiel moved to sit beside him, as they had on the plateau, but stopped when he heard someone call his name.

“Castiel!”

Castiel looked up to see Balthazar coming down near them.

“Where have you been?”

“I was…here?” Castiel guessed, “On sentry with Dean.”

“Not patrolling?” Balthazar asked, a slight accusing tone to his voice.

“I told him he didn’t have to,” Dean answered.

Balthazar straightened up at Dean’s tone, looking like he wanted to say something, but holding his tongue.  He may be bold enough to question his captain, but he’d never question or backtalk a seraph.

“I decided there was enough of you patrolling, so he stayed with me until the night came,” Dean added, “There’s nothing for you to be concerned about.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dean’s eyes flicked to Castiel, faint traces of sadness were clear in them, though his face showed no signs of it.  He was a little upset another angel had come along so soon.  Castiel was sure he was doing a far worse job at hiding his reaction.   Dean nodded his head once towards Balthazar, indication Castiel should go with him as he had said just a few moments ago.  Castiel didn’t know what to say, so he just turned to Balthazar.

“I believe it’s our turn to explore,” Castiel spoke.

“Yes, it is.  Part of the reason I came to find you,” Balthazar drawled.

Balthazar quickly saluted Dean, who returned the motion and dismissed him.  Then he was off again, leaving Castiel and Dean.

“I’ll see you when the rotation’s over,” Dean said.

“Good,” Castiel gave a faint smile.

He then took, once more leaving behind with the approaching night.  He was less concerned about it this time, it wasn’t distracting him like before and, thankfully, there was nothing to fly into out here.  Castiel caught up with Balthazar, coming to fly even with him, and ignored the look on Balthazar’s face.  He clearly wanted an explanation of some sort, but Castiel didn’t particularly feel like giving.  He didn’t have to anyway, he was Balthazar’s captain, after all.  The blond angel huffed and rustled his feathers in annoyance, flying a bit faster.

There really wasn’t much else to see of the earth.  It might’ve been because they were still over a large portion that had yet to be disfigured, but he was glad the rotations were passing quickly.  The majority of time it had taken for a rotation had obviously come from the amount of time it took to get there and back.  They flew over uneven stretches of lands, not broken and jagged looking like the mountains, but more just warped looking.  _Hills_.  Apart from that though, they saw nothing for the rest of the flight.

A short while later, they began to notice groups of angels flying one direction.  Balthazar tipped and followed the direction, Castiel right behind him.  This was the end of the rotation; they were going back to where they had landed when they’d first came to Earth.  Castiel saw Sam and Lucifer perched up on large rocks, silently taking attendance of the angels.  With Dean and Michael nowhere in sight, he assumed they were out making sure there were no stragglers.  At this point, there couldn’t have been more than a handful of angels not present.  A moment later, the last of the angels were escorted in by Dean and Michael.  The squadrons then organized into their formations, Castiel taking the head of his, and awaited orders from the archangels and seraphs.

“Leaving Earth will not be as easy as entering,” Michael started, “You must fly as fast as you can if you wish to exit the atmosphere.  I realize some of you may not be fast enough, as a result, all of you will be taking off first.  We will behind everyone to make sure you all get through.  Once you reach the moon, you are to stop and wait for us to take the lead.”

“Captains, you are to keep everyone organized until that time,” Lucifer continued, “Ventures onto the moon are not permitted.  Everyone will take off once the eleventh rotation enters with Gabriel.”

Almost as if on cue, bright lights began to fall through the thick clouds.  The tenth rotation then began to take off, filling the sky with hundreds of angels at once.  Castiel caught a glimpse of Dean and Sam rushing off to the falling angels to aid in slowing them, as they had before, while Michael and Lucifer brought up the rear of the take-off.  Castiel was met with some resistance from the atmosphere, but was able to make it out with no assistance.  He did notice several angels fall back, failing to pierce through; Michael and Lucifer were quick to pull them through and dive back for others.  As they waited just outside of Earth’s gravitational pull, Castiel glanced around the universe.  The clouds were strange things, letting the angels pass through so easily, but hardly any light.  If it was going to be like that forever, Castiel couldn’t say he’d be too thrilled to go back.

He was pulled from his thoughts at the sound of Michael’s voice ordering everyone to follow them.  Michael and Lucifer led the rotation with Sam and Dean at their sides, trailing them ever so slightly.  Castiel was tempted to surge ahead up next to Dean, but when the seraph glanced back at him with a silent warning, Castiel remained where he was. 

The flight back to Heaven was different than the flight there.  Panicky and slightly chaotic when it came to passing through belts of asteroids and gas clouds, yes.  But it was also much quieter.  There was no excited clamoring, like the other rotations that had returned before them.  It even seemed to take significantly longer for some reason.  He wasn’t sure what the cause of that was, but he was relieved when they reached the pearly gates.  They were all dismissed to do as they pleased upon reentering.  When Michael, Lucifer, Dean and Sam entered, Raphael and his general left to go accompany Gabriel and his general on Earth.  Castiel distantly thought he should learn the names of their generals, it seemed a little disrespectful that he didn’t know them.

Most of the angels went off to talk with others about their experiences, while some decided to retire to their quarters.  Castiel had started back that way, though he wasn’t particularly tired.  It was only the equivalent to late afternoon now.  Just as before, he bypassed the sleeping quarters and started making bored laps around Heaven to pass some time and hopefully wear himself out.  Sometime much later, he only knew it’d been a while because he recalled hearing the nineteenth rotation being called, his laps were interrupted by the presence of a seraph.  He turned around, hoping it was Dean.

“Hey, Castiel,” Sam greeted.

“Oh…Hello, Sam,” Castiel replied.

Sam rolled his eyes with a sigh at the nickname, but was obviously not bothered by it.  Dean had been calling him that for a couple millennia, he’d just hoped it wouldn’t catch on with anyone else.

“Dean told me what happened, are you okay?” Sam asked.

“Yes, I am fine.  Dean was quick to come to my aid and I healed just fine,” Castiel responded.

“Didn’t get scared too bad, did you?”

“It was frightening, not being able to see with the chaos coming.  But as I said, Dean was quick to rescue me.  The fear was gone once I could see him.”

“Good, I, uh…just wanted to make sure you were okay,” Sam shrugged, “Well, Dean wanted to know too.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s with Michael…Michael’s giving him a hard time about it.”

“He’s not in trouble, is he?” Castiel asked quickly.

“No, no, it’s fine.  Michael’s just a little upset with him right now.”

Castiel sighed in relief, but still felt a knot twisting up in his stomach.

“Seriously, it’ll be fine.  Dean would have to do something really, _really_ stupid for Michael to actually punish him,” Sam added, “But Dean’s probably gonna be stuck listening to him for the rest of the night, so Dean told me to tell you he’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Sam.”

“You’re welcome.”

Sam turned and left, no doubt going to his own quarters.  Castiel relaxed a little, the knot in his stomach subsiding.  Dean wasn’t in any real trouble and he wasn’t either, as far as he knew.  They’d see each other tomorrow for whatever new thing was going to happen.  Castiel allowed himself to smile as he turned and went towards his quarters, eagerness for the next day building up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy high hell, i did not mean to take this long to update. i had the chapter done like a week ago but then realized i wrote the wrong event so i had to redo it so if there's any errors of continuity (because i chopped it up instead of starting over) let me know and i'll fix them.  
> thoughts and comments are appreciated!


	3. The Third Day: Torrent

Castiel isn’t surprised at how many angels are gathered at the gates on the third day.  They weren’t going to lose interest in their Father’s works so quickly, not when they were promised something new every day.  What he is surprised at, however, is that it’s not God standing in front of the gates and giving them instructions or warnings.  It’s Michael.  Castiel glances around and notices several other angels equally confused by the absence of their Father, but he’s sure Michael will give them an explanation.  Michael’s eyes scan over the Host, making sure all angels are gathered before he speaks.

“I’m sure you are all wondering where Father is, on the start of the third day,” Michael begins, “As he said yesterday, he will be away from Heaven for a short while.”

None of the angels has assumed God had meant for than one day, but they weren’t upset by the fact.  They could handle a few days on their own.

“As such, he has left me in charge while he continues his work on Earth,” Michael continues, “That is to be the focal point of all his creations, at the moment.  We are permitted to go to Earth, as we please for now, but he has said there must be one squad from each army present on Earth as well as two archangels and seraphim.”

As Michael spoke, he could swear he saw Lucifer tense and Sam and Dean shift uneasily.  No one else seemed to notice though, perhaps he had seen wrong.  Castiel shook his head and returned his attention to Michael as he continued speaking.  He was nearly done, now just explaining rules and cautions.  No one was allowed to make modifications to the Earth in anyway, since it was apparently very easy for angels to do.  They were not to venture onto the other planets or the moon.  As Dean had said yesterday, the night was no longer dangerous; there were no more cataclysmic events hidden in the darkness.  Instead, there was a new danger, though not nearly as bad as the night had been.  This new one was something called _water_.  It could inhibit their flying, pull them under and drown them.  Under what, Castiel didn’t understand, nor did he understand ‘drown’.  He wanted to know what they were, but from the sounds of it, an explanation would be better than a demonstration.

Michael then named the two archangels who would be stationed on Earth for the first half of the day; Raphael, Gabriel and their seraphim.  Castiel’s excitement faltered, hearing that Dean wouldn’t be stationed there for the first half.  But then his excitement flared; Dean wouldn’t be _stationed_ , he could do as he pleased.  Castiel watched as Raphael, Gabriel and their seraph he still had yet to learn the name of turned and exited through the gates.  They were followed by one squad from each army, as Michael had said.

Once they’d all left, Michael stepped aside and motioned for the angels to go as well, if they wished.  It was only a breath before there were nearly hundreds of angels rushing for the gates to go see this ‘water’.  It took just as long for Michael to become evidently annoyed and practically herded them into order, with Dean’s help, and the angels grew calm again.  With the excitement back under control, Castiel ventured up to the stairs, towards where Dean stood opposite the flow of angels as Michael did.  Dean noticed Castiel immediately and glanced over the angels at Michael before looking back to Castiel with a slightly more relaxed expression.

“Not running out with everyone else?” Dean smirked.

“It’s only the start of the day, there will be plenty of time,” Castiel replied.

Dean nodded and hummed in agreement with a smile as he turned back to the angels still pouring out of the gates.

“Speaking of time…” Castiel started.

Dean’s eyes flicked back to him for a moment.

“Will you have time to enjoy it?  Or will you have duties to preform again?”

The seraph stared at him for a moment, eyes scanning over the lesser angel before another smile tugged at his lips.  Dean ducked his head to hide it, though it did him little good; Castiel had seen it.

“Just this for now,” Dean answered, “Then I’ve got a while before we have to relieve the others.”

“Once this—” Castiel nodded to the angels still leaving, “—calms, would you…like to go see the water?”

“’Course,” Dean grinned, “Company’s always nice.”

That feeling of heat blossomed within Castiel’s chest once again.  He found in strange that no word had come to mind to name this feeling yet.  He also found is strange it only ever happened around Dean.  Castiel brushed the thoughts to the back of his mind, to think over later, and glanced at the crowd of angels.  The number of angels was beginning to dwindle, though there were still many of them.  It wouldn’t be much longer until there was few enough to excuse Dean.

“Would it be alright if I waited here?” Castiel asked.

Dean checked over the angels again towards Michael.  The archangel had noticed, but seemed only mildly annoyed; more so at the other angels than Castiel’s presence around Dean. 

“Yeah, as long as you don’t distract me,” Dean teased.

“I would never intentionally—“

“Hey, I know, I’m just kidding,” Dean laughed.

Castiel furrowed his brows and tilted his head, not fully understanding.  Dean just shook his head with a sigh and a halfhearted wave, turning his attention back to the other angels.  Castiel watched them with him and by the time the flow had stemmed enough, other angels were beginning to come back.  There were very few coming back and even fewer who seemed to have enjoyed themselves.  All of them were covered with something that darkened their hair, feathers and clothes while making their skin glimmer and sparkle.  _Water_.  Both Castiel and Dean watched the angels covered in water— _drenched_ , as they made for their respective quarters.  Castiel and Dean glanced at each other curiously and Dean simply shrugged.

“I think we can go see what made them all so upset now,” Dean said.

“Yes, I’m even more curious now,” Castiel mused.

Dean nodded in agreement, then waved over to Michael to let him now he was leaving.  Without waiting for a response, Dean led the way up to the pearlescent gates.  Castiel followed suit, taking flight just behind him.  Like yesterday, and the day before, Dean was flying fast enough that Castiel had to push himself to fly as fast as he could.  In the back of his mind, he thought Dean was probably agitated at the slow pace.  He had no doubt the seraph could fly significantly fast than this and he was just dragging him down. 

The two of them flew in silence, though it wasn’t unpleasant.  It was becoming an almost habit of sorts, yesterday had been the only day they’d spoken while flying instead of stopping to talk.  They swerved and arched around asteroids drifting through the universe; Dean often choosing to dart between two about to collide and then looking back at Cas with a smug look.  Castiel huffed and rolled his eyes at the daring actions.  Both of them chose to soar through any nearby auras, enjoying the brief buzzing warmth they provided.  In less time than yesterday, the asteroid belt protecting this portion of universe appeared— _solar system_.  Castiel hummed quietly to himself, it was an odd name; much like the light dusting across Dean’s face being called ‘freckles’.

They passed through the belt without incident and Castiel quickly noticed a sudden lack of planets.  Yesterday, there had been nine of them aligned.  Crookedly aligned, albeit, but they were there.  Now there were only about four visible.  Almost as if knowing, Dean slowed enough to come even with Castiel to offer an explanation.

“They move around that star,” Dean said.

“They spin and move?” Castiel asked.

“Mm-hmm, the spinning is day and night.  When it comes all the way around the star, it’s called a ‘year’.”

 “How long does a year take?”

“Depends which planet,” Dean shrugged, “They all move at different speeds.”

After that, they fell back into silence.  But only for a moment; another asteroid belt, one that hadn’t been there yesterday, wrapped in a ring much closer to the star.

“It’s a new one,” Dean commented, “Michael says it’s for a little extra protection.”

Castiel stared at Dean, wondering how the seraph could possibly know what he was thinking.  As far as he knew, only God would have that kind of knowledge; maybe the archangels.  But this time, Dean offered no answer.  Castiel grumbled inwardly, following Dean as he weaved through the new belt and arched to the side.  The earth had been one of the faster moving planets, apparently, because it was currently a quarter of the way around the sun.  One of the planets, the one closest to the sun, appeared not to have moved at all from yesterday. 

Coming closer to the Earth now, Castiel could see it had changed colors.  It was still enveloped in whites and grays, even the near black spots, but there were other colors now.  He could see faint rough browns, the land, as well as deep blues and the faintest traces of green.  He glanced over at Dean to see the seraph eyeing the green with curious suspicion; he’d been expecting the blue and brown, but not so much the green.  But the new colors did nothing to slow him down, if anything he picked up the pace and left Castiel struggling to keep up again.  This time, Castiel was prepared for the Earth’s gravity to drag him down and was able to keep a reasonable speed.  He could see Dean, well ahead of him, rocketing down to the earth’s surface towards a patch of green.  He saw golden-brown wings flare out to slow Dean’s fall, which they did; but not enough to spare the surface a small gouge.

Castiel alighted softer beside Dean, looking back at the two fifteen foot trails gouging the green and dark brown earth, leading straight to Dean’s feet.  Dean balanced himself on one foot, holding the other and attempting to bring it closer to examine.  Castiel walked up beside him and glanced down at his foot as well.  Rich brown coated his heels, splattering half way up his half, while bright green with tinges of yellow stained the sides of his foot and toes.

“What is it?” Castiel murmured.

Dean scowled, letting go of his leg and shifting his weight to that one to give the other the same inspection.

“…Mud,” Dean answered, “And grass.”

Dean stepped away from the trails he’d made and started rubbing his heel against the grass, checking after a moment and seeing some of the mud had come off.  While he was attempting to clean himself, Castiel turned and looked around them.  The green, the grass, stretched on for quite a while.  He could barely see the edges of barren earth in the distance.

“Where’s the water?” Castiel asked, “Why is there ‘mud’ and ‘grass’ here?”

He turned around to seen Dean now kneeling the ground, green and yellow stains now more prominent on his feet, and digging his fingers into the soft ground.  He sunk his palms in under the grass, bringing his hands together and pulling up a chunk of grass and earth.

“What’re you doing?”

Castiel knelt beside Dean as he turned the chunk of earth over in his hands, tilting his head and knitting his brows together. 

“Michael told me the water might do something to the land,” Dean mumbled, “This must be it.”

Dean enclosed the chunk of earth in his hands and crushed it, compacting it and forcing tiny droplets of water out.  Castiel watched them fall and disappear into the small divot Dean had made before flicking his eyes between Dean, the earth in his hands and where the droplets had fallen.

“I don’t understand…is there really that little water?  Is it all in the ground?” Castiel asked, “I thought the other angels were— drenched?”

“They were,” Dean answered, dropping the earth, “It must’ve gone somewhere else.”

Dean stood up, wiping his hands together before wiping them against the white of his clothing.  Castiel made a face and the soft brown, vaguely hand shaped stains now adoring the hems of the seraph’s clothing.  Dean glanced down at the stains and shrugged; there was nothing he could do about it now.  Castiel shook his head with a sigh.

“How could the water have gone elsewhere?  From what Michael said, drowning would entail falling into something and he didn’t make it sound like it was capable of movement…”

“Yeah, well…” Dean sighed and spread his arms, “Looks like it can do more than he told everyone.”

“Are you saying it can move?  Did he tell you that?  Like about the— the grass?”

“Perks of being the general,” Dean winked.

“Why wouldn’t he tell everyone?”

“Guess he wanted it to be a surprise, maybe?”

Castiel hummed in response, looking around again.  A gentle wind swept across the ground, toying with the grass and making it flash varying shades of green.  It distantly reminded him of the green auras out in the universe.  He was lost in thought for only a moment before he felt the soft brush of feathers at his arm.  Castiel flinched and saw bright tawny feathers retreating and Dean grinning at him.

“C’mon, let’s go see the water,” Dean prompted.

“Do you know where it is?”

“I have a pretty good idea.”

With that, Dean turned and was off flying low to the ground; the grass flashing light greens beneath him before whipping back to their darker, richer shade.  Castiel was soon right behind him, since Dean was gliding at a more leisurely pace this time.  Castiel watched the wind coursing through Dean’s feathers.  The light of the star was still struggling to pierce through the blanket of clouds, but it was significantly brighter than it had been yesterday and gave his feathers a nicer shine.  Castiel glanced back at his own feathers, nearly ink black with a faded shine to them.  Castiel sighed and turned his gaze to the ground until something felt off.  He looked back up over to Dean to find him staring back with a faint smile that almost immediately disappeared and was replaced with a look of surprise as he quickly turned to face forward again.  Dean shook his head and flew just a little faster, casting a glance back to make sure Castiel had sped up as well.

“We’re, uh, almost there,” Dean announced.

“How can you tell?”

“Well, for one, the grass is disappearing,” Dean replied, “And there’s a few angels flyin’ up above.  Couple of them look wet.”

Castiel looked up to see a handful of angels soaring a good distance above them, but not far enough away to not notice two or three of them looked wet.  Not drenched like the ones they’d seen returning to Heaven with disgruntled looks, but they weren’t much… _drier_ , that was the word for that.  Looking down, the grass was disappearing.  There were patches of brown that increased in size and frequency, then soon changing to a much lighter color.  The mud— _dirt_ became a chalky color brown and began to take on a more golden hue, almost matching Dean’s hair and feathers, before it continued to lighten and look softer.

“There,” Dean nodded ahead.  

Castiel looked where Dean had nodded as saw a strip of sparkling blue, darkening and expanding the closer they got to it.  Dean beat his wings forward to come to stop, landing more gracefully than before on the different looking earth; Castiel doing the same.  Hardly any grass remained here, but what grass there was looked coarser and more golden.  The earth gave beneath their feet, unlike the stone yesterday.  It gave even more than the mud and with less force to do so.  Castiel shifted, moving the new type of earth with his foot and hearing a faint shifting sound from it.

“It’s sand,” Dean noted.

Castiel slid his foot across the light sand, smoothing it out and pressing his toes into again.

“This is a beach,” Dean added.

As if to punctuate its name, a wave of water rushed up the beach, closing a quarter of the distance between the edge where Dean and Cas stood and where the massive body of water laid.  Dean grinned, taking an instinctive half step back before running to chase the water as it retreated.  He faltered as he hit the wet sand, unprepared for the change in feeling, much to Castiel’s amusement.  Honestly, how was this angel a seraph and Michael’s general?

Castiel rolled his eyes and ran to catch up to Dean, who’d stalled just a few feet from the coiling water’s edge.  He could see Dean’s feathers quivering in anticipation as the water churned, then remembering Michael had said what the water could do to them.

“Dean, what’re you—“

The water surged forward again.  Castiel instinctively took the air, several feet above the water, while Dean tensed, crouching slightly and flared his wings.  The water curled around his ankles, rising and continuing to churn until it reached his knees.  Castiel watched in concern as the water stalled and began to retreat again.  Dean could feel the water lightly pulling at him, but it had no strength to actually do anything to him.  He relaxed, straightening up and turning his head up to Cas with another smile.  Castiel blinked in confusion, coming down and settling on the wet sand once the water had pulled away.

“I thought that…Michael said it could pull you under and ‘drown’ you…?”

“Yeah, _could_ ,” Dean laughed.

The water curled on itself, almost contemplatively, before surging forward again.  Castiel remained where he stood, letting it rise up to his knees and give him a slight surprise and its cool temperature.  The water caressed at his legs as it moved past him, stalled and then retreated, as if it were trying to beckon him to come closer.  With the water in front of them, the air was more chilling against the skin of their legs.  They watched the water toil and twist and when it came forward again, Dean danced back from it playfully.  On its retreat, he came back to where he’d been standing.  Then he did it on the next wave.

“C’mon,” Dean urged.

Castiel swallowed, watching the water.  It moved towards them again and he stumbled back with Dean, keeping just barely away from the water.  A smile tugged at Castiel’s lips as the water lapped weakly at his toes.  Both of them trotted forward to their previous spots until the water came at them again and they both skipped back.  They kept playing at the water’s edge, _ocean_ , their minds informed them, until they noticed the sky beginning to darken; the night was coming.  Castiel was worried only a moment before remembering that Dean had said the night was no longer dangerous, its complete silence was proof of that.  The only sounds on the beach were the waves moving back and forth across the sand, their breathless laughter, the sand shifting beneath their feet— and a distant noise Castiel couldn’t quite place.

“What is that?” Castiel asked, stopping and letting the water rise to his knees.

Overhead, they both saw half a dozen angels fleeing from the direction the night was coming from.  They looked like they’d been sprinkled with water.  The noise, something likes a constant and numerous things clattering together, grew louder as the darkness crawled over the water.  The glimmer provided by the light of the star that managed to make through the clouds began to disappear and the ocean began to look rougher.

“What— what is that?” Castiel repeated.

“More water,” Dean breathed, “That’s….rain.”

“Rain?”

“Yeah, and we should leave too unless you wanna get soaked too.”

“I’d rather not…”

“Let’s go then.”

They took off with the right behind them and obscenely loud.  It was gaining on them, prompting them to fly faster, only to be met with heavy gray clouds ahead that looked like something had swept them downwards.  Getting closer, it became apparent the downward gray sweeps were actually more rain.  Castiel swerved to the right, towards the stretch of ocean between the two falls of rain.

“Cas, this way!” Dean called.

Castiel twisted back, seeing Dean headed for the land.  He followed him closely, both of them flying faster as the rainfalls began to come together behind them and pour harder.  In the darkening light, Castiel could see hills rolling across the land.  They rose and dove steeper, a sign of the approaching mountains.    Dean twisted and angled up slightly, aiming for a particular spot in the side of the first, smaller mountain.  Castiel didn’t know why he was aiming for the stony face, but he trusted Dean.  There was a black spot on the face of the mountain, which was what Dean was aiming for apparently.  Castiel followed him straight to it and inside it.  He heard Dean hissing in mild pain as his wings struck unseen objects in this… _cave._   Castiel felt nothing striking at his wings, but that was probably due to his shorter wingspan.  Castiel’s wings were about fifteen feet across; the size of Dean’s two smaller pairs.  The center ones, the longest, were closer to nineteen feet.

He heard Dean land unceremoniously somewhere just ahead of him, followed by the sound of him dropping to the stone.  Not in the way a severely injured person would drop, more along the way a child would plop on the ground and pout.  Castiel alighted down somewhere beside him, feeling his way through the cave.  The entrance provided some light, enough to tell them which way would let them out, but it didn’t last long as night descended over them. 

“…Did…did you…?” Castiel started.

“Did I what?” Dean prompted.

The cave was then softly illuminated by a gentle white light; Dean burning his grace again.  Castiel blinked in the light, letting his eyes refocus and took notice of the odd coloring along the edges of Dean’s center wings.  They were stained and mottled with blood and bits of dust.

“Hurt myself?  A little, but it’s fine.  They’re already healed,” Dean shrugged.

“No, I mean, yes.  I’m glad they’d healed so quickly, I’d expect it would take more than that you actually injure you.  But that wasn’t what I was going to ask.”

Dean tilted his head.

“I was going to ask, did you…call me ‘Cas’?”

Dean paused, holding perfectly still and the color seeping from his face.  He cleared his throat, sitting upright and glancing further down the cave before looking at Castiel again.

“Yeah, I, uh…Is that okay?  I know Sam gets kinda bothered by it, but I just…I dunno.”

“It’s alright with me.”

“It is?”

“Yes.  It’s strange you shorten names, but I don’t mind it like Sam does.”

Dean smiled softly, looking at the ground and rubbing his hands together; his grace a fraction brighter.  Castiel settled on the ground across from Dean, reshuffling his wings several times in an attempt to get them comfortable where they made contact on the ground.  He heard Dean doing the same and checked to see how he’d folded his wings and saw the seraph had his wings outstretched across the stone.  Castiel stretched his wings out and let them drape over the ground.

“More comfortable, huh?”

“And much easier,” Castiel nodded, “What are we going to do?”

“Well, you could fly out if you wanna go fly in the rain.  And night.  Or you could wait til it passes,” Dean suggested.

“Don’t we have to relieve the other angels who’re on sentry?  What if it’s still raining then?”

“Then we’re goin’ flying in the rain.”

“…You make it sound unpleasant.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s going to be,” Dean gave a dry laugh.

“How long until we have to relieve them?”

“I’m going before you, but one of the messengers’ll come find us.”

“How?”

“There’s, uh…this thing that Father’s got Gabriel working on, when he’s not down here.  He gave him this project to keep him occupied, but it’s a way to get all the angels connected,” Dean explained, “Right now, it’s not much.  He only started it before his turn yesterday.  All it can do now is tell messengers, seraphim and archangels where certain angels are.”

“How does it work?”

“I’m not sure, you’d have to ask Gabriel.”

Castiel made a noise of acknowledgment.  He did plan on asking Gabriel how it was something like that would actually work.  Castiel turned his head towards the entrance of the cave; the rain was still falling around them and hadn’t let up, if anything, it was raining harder.  He let out a silent breath and stared at the ground between himself and Dean.  As much as he was enjoying spending time with Dean, he’d rather not be stuck in a cave while they waited out the rain.  Dean seemed to notice this and pushed himself up to his feet, shuffling his wings and folding them close.

“Why don’t we see if there’s anything further in?” Dean suggested.

“What could there be?”

“Won’t know until we check.”

Castiel didn’t think on it more than a second, at least they’d be doing something other than sitting in the dark.  He stood an followed Dean, his eyes scanning over the walls in the light of Dean’s grace and paying little attention to the uneven ground.  More than once, Castiel stumbled and bumped into Dean or fell to the side and caught himself on the wall.  He would’ve felt embarrassed if it weren’t for the fact the seraph was doing the same thing.  Dean tripped over rocks and skipped forward to catch himself or took a misstep on something and slipped, bowing his body one way to regain balance. 

The deeper into the cave they went, the colder and darker it got.  The air around them began to feel more crisp and damp at the same time.  Before Castiel could ask anything, both of them heard a weak gurgling sound approaching them.  They froze in place and listened as the sound came closer and began to grow louder, like whatever it was was slowly, but steadily, increasing.  Both angels tensed, suddenly uncomfortable with the confined space.  Dean’s grace burned brighter, illuminating more of the cave and catching approaching glimmers as they ran around a stone and curved towards them. 

The water gurgled and babbled as it slithered towards them, broadening and growing louder as it did.  The icy water washed over their feet, sending chills up through the spines and wings, as it continued past them towards the entrance.  Dean and Castiel stared after it as it continued twisting and winding around the rocks they’d stumbled on, completely undaunted.  Castiel shivered at the cold temperature and looked down; the water was stretching towards the walls of the caves and beginning to rise.  On top of that, it was beginning to flow swifter.  _River_.

“Dean, should we be concerned…?”

Dean snapped his attention from the direction the river was flowing to the water immediately around them.  It had risen half way to their knees, pushing at them, urging them to go along with it.  The river had already hidden a majority of the stones before them, churning with white edges around those it didn’t cover.

“Yeah,” Dean nodded, “We should be concerned.”

The water sloshed around their legs as they made for the cave entrance.  The faster they tried to move, the more they stumbled on unseen rocks.  Dean’s grace had made them visible before, they simply hadn’t paid attention, but the water coursing over them distorted the light and blended the rocks with the ground.  Even so, with the water just now reaching their knees, they tried to run.  Water splashed up all around them, dousing each other with every step.  The cave then echoed with a deep, muffled grinding sound.

“We need to fly,” Dean stated.

“Isn’t it too cramped for y—“

“I’ll deal with it, we need to fly,” Dean repeated, with more urgency.

Castiel didn’t question him further, he spread his wings, beating them several times before lifting himself out of the water that was now mid-thigh.  He heard the faint sound of feathers brushing hard against stone as Dean did the same.  He was at Castiel’s heels in a heartbeat, checking back over his shoulder.

“Move faster,” Dean ordered.

Castiel did as he was told, though not gaining any distance between himself and Dean.  The muffled grinding stalled for a moment before a loud crash echoed around them, followed by the sound of roaring water.  They heard it crash and protest on every turn the river had taken, rapidly gaining on them.

“ _Go!_ ” Dean yelled.

They were already pressed against the ceiling of the cave, making it harder to fly faster; they couldn’t raise their wings high enough to get any real speed going.  Castiel felt Dean pushing against his feet, suddenly propelling him forward.  Castiel ducked his head, looking under his wing at Dean to see how he was managing the burst of speed.  His center wings remained tense and outstretched, scraping the stone, while the other two pairs worked in tandem, moving forward than up and beating down diagonally.  Behind Dean, Castiel saw the water chaotically slamming into the walls and charging up on them.  He could feel its spray of— _mist_ dancing around them as the water began to lap at Dean’s feet.

With another surge of speed, the ground suddenly fell away from them and the ceiling and walls vanished.  The water reached out for them, making a vain grab for them before falling.  Dean relaxed, letting go of Castiel and allowing them to slow down.  Both of them turned around to see the river cascading down the side of the mountain, _waterfall_ , and creating a cloud of mist as it fell and crashed into the ground.

Castiel let out a sigh of relief, glancing down and seeing trails of sparkles flowing through the mountains as the night sky lifted.  More rivers, twisting along the mountain side in whichever direction they pleased; some falling over edges and creating more waterfalls.  The rivers pooled together at the base of the mountain and continued away as one massive river.  Castiel’s eyes trailed along the new river, watching it overtake anything its path. 

“Cas, look at that.”

Castiel flicked his attention to Dean before looking at whatever Dean was pointing to.  An edge, _cliff_ , had something… _fuzzy_ on it.  Without another word, both of them soared closer to it.  As they approached it, it became clear it wasn’t exactly ‘fuzzy’ and there was more than one.  Bright green and brown jutted up several feet from the rocks and few patches of golden grass.  The gentle gusts of wind from their wings had the new things swaying limply back and forth, a few dropping tiny flecks of bright green.  They landed just before them, granting them relief and stilling again, and Dean walked up to one.  It came to about shoulder height on Dean, but he still leaned down to inspect it.  He brushed at it, watching it sway with the motion.  He grabbed one of the light brown bits between his fingers and with a simple flick of his wrist, it snapped off with a weak ‘ _twik_ ’.

“What did you do?  Did you break it?” Castiel asked quickly.

Dean stared at the object in his hands, thinking about whether or not he’d actually broken this…

“Tree.”

“What?”

“It’s a tree.”

“D—Do you just know what everything is?”

“Nah, I wish I did though,” Dean laughed, “And no, I didn’t break it.”

He turned the tree piece— _branch_ over in his hands a few times before discarding it to the ground.  He curled his fingers closed a few times, making a face at the apparent sticky substance he’d gotten on his hands.  He held them away from himself, looking around for anything to wipe them clean.  When he made a move for his clothes again, Castiel made a disgruntled noise at him.  It was bad enough he’d gotten mud on them, he wasn’t going to add whatever this was.  _Sap._  

Dean held his hands up innocently and letting them fall to his sides, careful not to touch his clothes.  Dean sighed and eyed the grass nearby; it’d gotten the mud off before.  He knelt down and rubbed his hands in it, only to come back with bits of grass and dirt stuck to his hands.  He stared incredulously at his hands until he heard a muffled laughter behind him.  He twisted around, shooting Castiel a sour look and pointed wiped his hands on his clothing anyway.  Castiel’s laughter died off quickly as he fixed Dean with his own irritated expression.

Dean rolled his eyes as he stood and walked past Castiel, who felt a twinge of sadness when he again saw the dried blood clinging to the feathers of Dean’s center wings.  He knew he was healed and just fine, but still.  If Dean noticed this expression, he ignored it and hopped up onto a nearby boulder.  Then the next and the one after it before pausing and looking down at Castiel.

“What’re you waiting for?” Dean prompted.

Castiel shook his head, dismissing the feeling, and followed suit.  He wasn’t sure why Dean was jumping from rock to rock, but there was something about it; something fun.  Dean came to the crest of the mountain first, stopping and staring out ahead.  Castiel reached the crest a moment later, curious what held the other angel’s attention.  Before them was a vast blanketing of trees, not small ones that swayed in the breeze like the one Dean had just snapped a branch off of.  These ones towered several dozen, some even close to a hundred, feet high and they were all different. _Bark.  Leaves.  Needles._   All the trees had different patterns and colors of bark, varying from off white to rich reddish brown to deepest brown, nearly black.  Some were covered with leaves and each one that was bore different leaf shapes.  The ones wrapped in thick coats of dark green needles reached higher than most of the leafed ones, for now, and stood up sharper than the others. _Forest._

“Dean, what…why are these so much bigger?”

“…They’re a lot older,” Dean answered.

Then Castiel remembered how much faster time went for Earth than it does for Heaven.  It had already been centuries for Earth, not that Castiel had yet learned what a ‘century’ was, while it had only been two and half days for Heaven. 

“You want to fly through it,” Castiel commented.

A smile broke across Dean’s face as he turned to Castiel and nodded.  Castiel gave a dry laugh, motioning for Dean to lead the way.  The seraph flared his wings, nearly knocking Castiel over with the sudden motion, and dove off the cliff’s edge.  Castiel followed after him, racing down the mountain side and swerving around boulders jutting up.  They were soaring low to the ground and into the forest in no time.  The numerous trees presented somewhat of challenge in navigation, but really all it took was quick reflexes and flexibility.  Both the angels darted between the trees, rising up over branches and diving under while twisting over to turn away from others too close together.

Ahead of them was a strip of dimly reflected light stretching across the ground; another river.  Neither of them had to say anything, both of them had decided to take a short break at the river’s edge.  _Bank_.  Dean, again, landed hard and skidding across the muddy bank and left two deep trails in the earth.  Castiel landed closer to the water, stumbled several feet and skipped a few steps into the cool water. 

“Do you enjoy getting…” Castiel paused, waiting for a word to come to mind, “—dirty?”

“I do, actually,” Dean replied smartly, “And you’re one to talk.”

Dean nodded to Castiel’s wings.  Castiel stretch them out, looking down their length to see dozens of twigs, leaves and apparent dust trapped within his feathers.  He scowled at the filth, bring his wings in close and began to pluck away at them.  Dean rolled his eyes with a sigh, walking over to him.  He grabbed Castiel’s wrists and pulled his hands away from the black feathers dusted to an odd shade of color. 

“Sit down,” Dean said simply.

“Dean, I am more than capable of cleaning my own feathers,” Castiel deadpanned.

“I know,” Dean shrugged, “I’m just being nice.”

“And you know…how serious of an offer this is…?”

“…Yeah,” Dean replied shortly.

Castiel stared at Dean, who was apparently having a hard time maintaining eye contact now.  Castiel took a deep breath, hesitating before deciding to sit down.  He could practically _hear_ Dean relax as he settled down behind him, just off to the side a bit.  Castiel stretched out his wing, allowing Dean full access to it.  He could feel Dean’s fingers trembling with the first few tentative touches, but he’d calmed down quickly and was combing them through the dark feathers and plucking twigs and leaves with ease.  When the backside of the wing was cleaned, Castiel shifted the wing around Dean, as he shuffled awkwardly to keep his own out of the way, and let him at the front side.  Most of the obstructions had come out already, but Dean still managed to find a few in the front.  Shifting a little less awkwardly this time, Dean took to Castiel’s other wing and gave it the same treatment.  All the while, Castiel sat with his knees drawn up and wrapped by his arms, resting his head on them with a content smile playing at his lips.

When Dean had finished, declaring him clean again and started to stand up, the twinge of sadness and mild guilt struck Castiel immediately.

“Your wings are still messed,” Castiel noted, “It’s…it’s only fair I should return the favor.”

Dean raised an eyebrow at him, lips parting slightly; he hadn’t been expecting Castiel to offer the same for him.  Especially given how much more work there would be.  Castiel tried to keep his expression neutral, but was failing horribly at it.  The same nervousness that had bothered Dean was now on him.  Unlike Castiel, Dean made no objects.  He sat down with his back to Castiel and rearranged the way he held his wings so none would block Castiel from whichever one he was grooming. 

Castiel’s hand shook as well, and continued to do so for longer as he raked his fingers through the tawny feathers, removing a number of tiny twigs and leaves.  After he’d finished with the back side of the first wing, he calmed down.  It had helped that when Dean shifted his wings to allow Castiel at the front, he caught a glimpse of a blissful smile and closed eyes.  With Dean not looking, Castiel let the same blissful smile cross his own face.  He moved a little faster now, with gentler combing and plucking.  It wasn’t until the light, still plagued by clouds, had begun to fade and night was approaching again that Castiel had finished grooming Dean’s wings. 

He scooted back, giving Dean room to move without bumping him, and stood up.  When Dean didn’t move, Castiel narrowed his eyes in slight concern.  He moved around the slouched angel, seeing his head bowed forward, eyes closed and lips parted, emanating a soft, grumbling type sound.  _Snore_.  Dean had fallen asleep while Castiel had groomed the last wing.  For a moment, Castiel was offended.  But a heartbeat later, he realized it was actually more of a compliment.  Dean had trusted him enough to fall asleep while he manipulated his feathers; that held just as much gravity, maybe even more, than grooming had.

Castiel distantly wondered how much rest Dean actually got, being Michael’s general.  He doubted it was very much and it was for that reason he decided not to wake the seraph.  He settled down beside Dean, subconsciously letting their feathers overlap, and looked up to the night sky.  There wasn’t much to see, but Castiel could tell the clouds were thinning.  Perhaps tomorrow they’d be gone.  Castiel hummed, glancing at Dean out of the corner of his eye.  The way Dean sat didn’t appear to be comfortable, but it must not have been too unpleasant if he was sleeping. 

The nighttime crawled by, bringing brisk winds with it.  Castiel shuddered at the temperature and found himself moving closer to Dean, seeking shelter from his wings from the wind as Dean had provided before.  A strong bluster of wind swept through the forest, this time making Dean shiver as well.  Then there was a heavy weight on Castiel’s shoulder and he could feel his wings entangled.  Dean was now using him as support and had entangled their wings together by accident in an attempt to rearrange them for the new position.  Castiel opened his mouth to wake the angel, to object, but no words came out.  He really didn’t want to anyway.

When the next morning came, Dean finally stirred.  He lazily sat back up right, blinking eyes a few times and looking like he was considering going back to sleep.  He stretched his arms out forward and his wings out all around himself, disentangled them from Castiel’s, and stretched them until they quivered.  Castiel watched with mild interest, trying to ignore the pang of warmth again, and waited until Dean relaxed to speak.

“Did you rest well enough?”

Dean started, surprised by Castiel’s presence.

“Uh— Yeah, sorry I, uh, fell asleep on you,” Dean mumbled, “You could’ve just woken me up or pushed me off or something.”

“It wasn’t a bother.  Plus, I assumed you needed the rest.”

Dean gave a short laugh, nodding and glancing at the ground before looking up.  He noticed something in the distance of the pale morning sky and two heartbeats later, he realized what it was.  A messenger was coming for one of them, or maybe both, which meant their leisure was at an end.  Dean grumbled inwardly, pushing himself up and dusting some of the accumulated filth from his clothing.  A nudge from Dean’s lower right wing prompted Castiel to do the same.  They should at least make somewhat of an effort to look like soldiers.

A younger looking messenger angel came to land in front of them on the bank, more graceful than either of them had done.  The angel grinned proudly, like he was excited by the simple task of delivering a message.  Dean cocked his head at the angel; he may not be the greatest with names and faces, but he was certain this angel was new.

“My name is Samandriel,” Samandriel introduced, “I’m with Gabriel.”

Dean nodded, making a note of that.

“He wanted me to tell you, Castiel, your squadron will be relieving the other from your army at the next night, at the most, uh…northern point of the earth.”

“Alright, thank you,” Castiel replied.

“And, Dean, uh— sir, Gabriel also said Michael wants you to come back to Heaven,” Samandriel added.

“What for?” Dean asked.

“He didn’t say, I’m sorry, sir.”

Dean rolled his eyes and waved his hand.  It wasn’t Samandriel’s fault Gabriel hadn’t told him why Michael wanted him.  He was more curious as to why Michael had to tell Gabriel who had tell Samandriel.  The messenger glanced anxiously between the two of them waiting for either of them to speak.  Castiel realized he was waiting for an order or dismissal and nudged Dean with his wing, snapping the seraph back to attention.

“Right, uh, you’re dismissed then,” Dean said.

Samandriel smiled again, nodding once and taking off.  Once he was out of sight, Dean turned to Castiel.

“Guess I’ll see you later then, Cas” Dean shrugged.

“Yes, of course.  Perhaps if Michael doesn’t keep you long…?” Dean suggested.

“We’ll see what he wants,” Dean smirked.

“But I will see you tomorrow, regardless, right?”

“Right.”

Castiel stepped back as Dean spread his wings and took off in a flurry of wind.  He was thankful not to be sprayed with dirt like he had been yesterday when Dean had decided to show him what ‘air’ was.  He sighed and stood there for a moment, chastising himself for not asking either Dean or Samandriel which ‘northern’ was, at least, he was assuming it was a direction and not a place.  He spun around a few times, trying to see if there was anything at all to indicate which way it was.  If there was any indication, he was going to see it standing down on the river bank, surrounded by trees, mountains and the ever present clouds.

Rising up above the tree line, and the mountains soon after, there was still no sign.  But something was telling him to fly in the direction behind him.  With nothing better to go on, he did just that.  Castiel glanced over his shoulder, wondering if he could see Dean in the distance, but there was nothing.  He tensed his jaw, figuring the seraph had taken off at full speed since he wasn’t flying with anyone and Michael wanted him.

His assumption was right, by the time he’d looked back, Dean had already been passing through the asteroid belt closest to the Earth.  During his flight, Dean couldn’t help but think something odd must be going on.  Michael had never hesitated to call for him directly.  Either Gabriel had decided to trick Dean or something of a more pressing matter had Michael tied up.  Dean arched over the entire second belt, not bothering with artful displays of flying, and left the solar system far behind.  He darted straight through auras, soaring too quickly to even notice the short lived electric warmth.  He hardly noticed the Morning Star as he rocketed by it, focusing on the Gates of Heaven coming up.

Dean flared his wings, beating them forward to slow down.  On his approach, the gates swung open welcomingly and he strode through them.  Castiel may have cleaned his wings, but the filth still on his clothing made him look extremely out of place within Heaven’s pristine walls.  He quickly used a fragment of grace to restore the clothing to its original pure white appearance; something he could’ve done long before, but as Castiel had asked, he had sort of planned on getting dirty.  There wouldn’t have been much of a point to clean the clothing every few minutes.

He moved through all the pillars, statues and odd structures, making a beeline for Michael’s quarters.  It was one of the biggest structures, seconded only by God’s own, and rivaled by the other archangels’.  Even from an objective stand point, Michael’s ‘home’ was the most regal and aesthetic out of the four archangels.  Dean knocked hard against the heavy stone door that stood tall and wide enough to allow for Michael’s rarely used trueform.  Every angels’ home had doors built to allow for their trueforms, but nearly none of them ever went to that extent.  It made everything feel too crowded and simple actions become cumbersome.

The stone door gave a resounding click and parted open enough for Dean to push.  It was a massive, heavy door, but he was a seraph.  Not that it was an easy thing to open, but it wasn’t difficult either.  Dean shoved the door closed behind him until it clicked again.  He moved silently through the halls, undaunted by the vaulted ceilings and arches, and went to the center of the building as was habit for him when Michael called for him. 

He found the archangel standing out on the balcony with his back to him and gripping the railing tightly.  His feathers were disheveled and Dean could see remnants of freshly healed wounds decorating his skin.  Beyond him, over the balcony and out in the spacious fields, Dean could see the ground had been gouged several times.

“Michael,” Dean called.

Michael straightened up, taking a moment to make sure he’d composed himself completely before turning to face Dean.  He could tell he’d been fighting with Lucifer _again_ , just as he’d done yesterday before scolding Dean on his behavior.  It been only vehement arguing yesterday, Lucifer was already feeling jaded that God had left Michael in charge of the entire Host during his absence.  He thought the authority and responsibilities should’ve been divided equally amongst the four archangels.  When Michael noticed his chagrin and confronted him about it, that had set them off.  Sam and Dean had been stuck with them for the rest of the day, trying to prevent an actual fight.  Evidently after Dean had left today, the argument had started right back up.    Dean shifted, lowering his feathers and feeling guilty for having left Sam to deal with it on his own.  The thought replayed over in his mind and the guilt worsened.  Sam had been left on his own to try and stop two archangels.  They could barely manage it together yesterday.

“Samuel is fine,” Michael stated.

Dean flicked his eyes up.

“He is currently consoling Lucifer, who still has yet to calm himself.”

“That bad?”

Michael spread his arms and wings, showing the last traces of injuries as they disappeared.  He relaxed and leaned back against the railing, folding his arms over his chest.  Dean moved over beside him, but remained standing up right.

“I do understand where he’s coming from, sharing the responsibilities would be easier,” Michael started, “But that isn’t what Father decided and refuses to accept that.”

“With all respect, I don’t think trying to strong arm him is going to work,” Dean offered.

“And what would you suggest?” Michael snipped.

“I dunno,” Dean shrugged.

“Very insightful…”

Dean dipped his head, hiding the small smirk.  Dean shifted his weight from side to side, reshuffling his wings and trying to come up with a better suggestion.  As he did, something apparently caught Michael’s eye.  Michael narrowed his eyes at something in Dean’s wing and stood up off the railing.  Dean tensed at the sudden change in posture, feeling self-conscious under the sudden scrutiny.  He thought Castiel had done a good job of grooming his feathers, there shouldn’t be anything in them for Michael see; let alone look like it was offensive to him.

“What is that?” Michael asked evenly.

“Uh, p-probably a leaf or something, I was—“

“It’s not a leaf,” Michael cut.

Dean opened his mouth with another suggestion, but clamped it shut when Michael reached forward with a deliberate hand.  He wanted to pull away from Michael, but he knew better.  Michael plucked the obstruction from his tawny feathers and held it up for Dean to see. 

“Why is there a _black_ feather in your wing?” Michael demanded.

Dean knew immediately where it had come from; Castiel.  His mind scrambled to think of how it had gotten there.  He knew he’d gotten their wings entangled sometime after he’d fallen asleep and he knew moving was bound to take a few off.  But he didn’t understand how one had gotten so well embedded in his own wings that it had remained there during his entire flight from Earth to Heaven.

“Dean,” Michael pressed.

Dean cleared his throat and straightened up a bit.

“We were—“

“’We’ who?”

“Cas and I—“

“ _’Cas_ ’?”

“Castiel,” Dean corrected, “Castiel and I were flying through a forest and debris got all over our wings.  It had been my idea to fly through it and I felt I should offer to clean his wings.”

“That doesn’t tell me why his feather was amongst yours.”

“He felt obligated to do the same and I let him…and…I fell asleep,” Dean admitted, “I ended up leaning on him for support after he’d finished and our wings got a little mixed up.”

Michael clenched the feather in his hand before casting it aside.  He didn’t miss the way Dean’s eyes followed it as it drifted to the stone flooring and he certainly didn’t miss the way it was now Dean who looked offended.

“Dean, you are an intelligent seraph.  I’m sure you know what such acts imply.”

“…I do.”

Michael bristled at the response, flaring his wings slightly and stepping closer to Dean.  Dean set his jaw, not bothering to hide the brazen look building in his eyes and braced himself.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments make you super cool  
> 


	4. The Fourth Day: Heavens Above

Castiel couldn’t say it didn’t bother him that Michael had kept Dean for the remainder of yesterday.  He’d hoped he’d get to at least see Dean when he and Michael, as well as Sam and Lucifer, came down to relieve Raphael and Gabriel.  Evidently, the archangels and seraphim were taking full day shifts while the squadrons took significantly smaller ones.  As before, swarms of angels had gathered and were racing through the gates to return to Earth.  This time, however, the flow of angels was overseen by Gabriel and his seraph.  Castiel mentally scowled at himself for _still_ not knowing the seraph’s name.  He shook the thought from his head, only for it to quickly be replaced by one wondering where Dean was.  As soon as Castiel thought, Gabriel turned his attention to him with a mischievous and knowing grin.  He motioned for Castiel to come over.  Castiel let out a breath and complied; it wasn’t like he really had much of a choice.  Ignoring an archangel’s order, no matter how trivial in appearance, always had some kind of drastic repercussion.

“I bet I know what you were thinking,” Gabriel started, with a coy grin.

“Given you’re an archangel, I’m sure the possibility exists,” Castiel nodded.

“Well, it does now,” Gabriel smiled proudly, “And you were thinkin’ pretty loud.”

Castiel didn’t know what to say to that, he just shrugged his shoulders helplessly and awaited an explanation or further taunting.

“You don’t seem very surprised or curious,” Gabriel pouted.

“Dean has told me you were working on some way to connect the angels.”

“’Course he did,” Gabriel sighed, “Always gotta ruin my fun.  Anyways, back to my point.”

Castiel resisted the urge to snap something snarky at him.  He needed to remember not all the high ranking angels took so kindly to his occasional snide remarks as Dean had.

“You were wonderin’ where Dean is, right?” Gabriel guessed.

“Yes.”

“Him and Michael are on duty today.  Right now, I think he’s bored and flyin’ in circles, could probably use some company.”

“Thank you, Gabriel.”

Gabriel waved his hand with a smirk, dismissing Castiel to go on with the other angels leaving.  Castiel nodded and took off with the others, easily passing by all of them.  He wasn’t the fastest angel in the garrison, but it also didn’t take much to fly faster than civilian angels. 

Not much had changed in the universe.  There were several new auras and stars, but they weren’t of any significance.  He soared through the wide open spaces, arching wide around and diving under asteroids as he went.  He dove beneath the gas clouds and swooped up over both asteroid belts protecting the Earth.

As he neared the Earth, he noticed its colors had once again changed.  Well, not so much _changed_ as became much more rich and vibrant.  The clouds had thinned considerably, leaving on wisps and swirls of white scatter over a deep, shimmering blue, lively green and streaks of tan.  Towards the northern and southern points, since Castiel knew what those were now, the Earth was capped with the purest white laced with sprawls of bright blue.  Out of curiosity, he aimed to fly towards the southern point.

Castiel dove into the atmosphere and immediately spread his wings, this time using his grace to help keep his descent reasonable.  Coming in slow, there was no fire or heat to toy with his limbs and feathers.  It was actually remarkably cold.  The wind that swept up by him, lifting him up a bit, made things even more chilling.  It didn’t really affect him, but it was rather unpleasant.  He tucked his wings in a little closer and gained speed, but not much heat.  The air grew even colder the closer he came to the sparkling white and blue land.  When he touched down, his bare feet sinking into the soft, white material, it sent a jolt through his body.  He immediately flapped his wings, pulling himself up and out of it, tucking his legs closer.  He shivered, instinctively running his hands over the chilled skin before landing again just a few feet away.  That had been a worse decision as the white substance— _snow_ then rose up to his knees.

He trembled harder at the cold feeling and once again pulled himself up; the beat of his wings sending up a flurry of snow this time.  He decided against landing in the snow again and glided over its glimmering surface.  The snow laid smooth and even, lightly mimicking the shapes of what land Castiel was certain was under it.  It softened and hid the hills and mountains, the only evidence they were there at all was the occasional streak of black peeking out from beneath the snow.  Hanging from the black streaks, or shielding them, were sheets of smooth, warped— _ice_ that varied from perfectly clear, given away only by glimmers and reflections, to a lively light blue.  The bright blue seemed to be more common in the direction of the ocean, whereas the clear further away from the ocean.

Castiel flew away from the water’s edge, moving more inland, and noticed the snow began to look like it had been disturbed.  The smoother blanket had been marred by something and the wind had started to work at smoothing it over again.  Sharp rocks and chunks of ice stuck up at odd angles like they’d been thrown from their place and embedded somewhere else.  The wind and snow where working to cover those up as well, though Castiel thought it might not be a good thing to have them hidden and lurking beneath the snow.

He came up on a mountain that had had a significant amount of snow blasted away, baring its jagged black side above mounds of snow.  Castiel paused and stared at it for a moment, wondering what had happened.  A movement just above the barren mountainside drew his attention up; a shifting of gold, white and tan feathers.  For a moment, his heart soared and he propelled himself closer.  But these feathers were too light; there was more gold and white than there was any shade of tan.  And, as badly worded as it may sound, they were too beautiful.  They weren’t Dean’s.  The angel sensed Castiel presence and twisted around, moving his wings to see who approached.  Lucifer.

He faltered in his flight, bringing himself to a poorly executed halt.  Castiel’s eyes flitted over Lucifer, noticing healing patches of bruises and lacerations.  The archangel narrowed his eyes into a harsh warning glare as he bristled and spread his wings with a snarl tugging at his lips.  A chilling wind blasted by, sinking the cold down to Castiel’s bones.  He wrapped his arms around himself, resisting the urge to tuck his wings in for protection.  He glanced back up at Lucifer, seeing him completely unperturbed by the cold and maintaining his glare and bristling.  Castiel took the hint then, twisting around and flying into the wind.

He glanced over his shoulder once more at Lucifer before he lost sight of him; he was still watching him.  Castiel pursed his lips and flew into the wind as quickly as it’d let him.  The hills and mountains soon hid the archangel from sight and began to slope down towards the ocean.  There were no more streaks of blackened earth, only shocks of bright blue ice interrupted the snow now.  A little ways further and the snow and ice began to break apart, leaving sheets and chunks to float in the dark water. 

The further he flew, the more the water began to gradually lighten.  It still wasn’t light, but it no longer a near black color.  It was blue with green tints, glinting white on each little wave.    Over the water, he could see himself.  _Reflection._ He dropped closer to the water and reached down to touch the reflection, trailing a hand across its surface as he went.  Water sprayed up in fine, white mist that followed him closely and started to dampen his wings after a while.  Just before he decided to let up, he plunged his hand in deeper, up to the elbow.  The ocean water churned and reached up for him, drenching the upper part of his clothing, blinding him and making him sputter out invading water.  He beat his wings frantically to pull himself away from the water, only to strike something above him.

He was thrown to the ground, which he had conveniently been near, and tumbled over a few times.  When he came to a stop, his wings ached and his right shoulder felt wrong; almost numb.  Castiel righted himself to his knees, feeling the pain in his wings begin to subside.  He tentatively wrapped a hand around his upper right arm, wincing at the pain it brought. 

“Are you alright?”

Castiel snapped his head around and saw Sam landing on the sandy beach.

“Uh— yes, I will be fine in a moment,” Castiel nodded, “I apologize, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was flying.”

“It’s alright, I wasn’t paying much attention either,” Sam shrugged, “Usually not a whole lotta angels sailing the open ocean like that.”

Sam walked over to Castiel and kneeled down beside him, inspecting his injured shoulder.  Castiel instinctively shrank back when Sam moved to put his hands on his shoulder.

“It will be fine in a moment,” Castiel stated.

“No, it won’t,” Sam deadpanned, “There’s not really anything to heal, nothing’s broken or cut.  It’s just out of place and it’s gonna take a while to fix itself.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, Dean did this a few times already.  It takes too long to heal on its own,” Sam said, “I saw Michael fix Dean up when he did it, I can do it for you.”

Castiel stared at Sam for a moment; there was no reason to not believe him.  Castiel took a deep breath and nodded.  Sam gave him a reassuring smile as he placed his hands on either side of his shoulder.

“What exactly are you going t—“

Castiel was cut off by the sudden pressure and immediate pain in shoulder, accompanied by an audible _pop_.  He recoiled away from Sam with a yelp and a glare, though the latter was soon blinked away upon feeling the relief.  He rubbed his shoulder a few times, rolling it to see if it really was alright now.  It was an odd sort of injury.  He’d broken a wing on the second day in his attempt to escape the night, amongst a number of other injuries.  But this time, he hadn’t broken or cut anything, yet the pain was more intense.  Why— _Adrenaline._   Castiel sat back on his rear, turning over the new word and its meaning in his head.

“ _Hey_.”

“Huh?”

Castiel perked up, then becoming aware Sam had been trying to talk to him.

“I’m sorry, I— there was a, uh…” Castiel started.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Sam laughed, “New words pop into our heads all the time.  Some are pretty weird and kinda distracting.  Dean heard one and he, uh…’zoned out’?  I think that’s what he said.  But he almost flew into a cliff.”

“A cliff?” Castiel repeated.

“Yeah, he tried to act like he did it on purpose, but…y’know,” Sam smiled.

“…Speaking of Dean, do you know where he is?”

Sam’s face immediately fell, causing a knot of concern to twist in Castiel’s stomach.  Sam saw it etched on his face and cleared his throat, shaking his head.

“No, he’s fine,” Sam said quickly, “It’s just, uh… Michael was kinda rough on him at the end of the day yesterday.  Last night, I guess.  And today didn’t start out very well for any of us.”

“Lucifer included…?” Castiel guessed.

“Especially.”

“What happened?”

“Sorry, Castiel, I can’t tell you that…”

“It’s alright, I understand,” Castiel sighed, “Can you tell me where Dean is?”

“Yeah, if you go that way,” Sam pointed off to the side behind Castiel, “You should find him in a barren landscape.”

“Thank you.”

Castiel stood up, dusting the sand from his clothing and giving Sam a quick nod.  When he spread his wings to take off, Sam decided to say one more thing.

“Hey, I, uh…heard Dean gave you a nickname.”

“Yes.  Though I’m not entirely sure why, it doesn’t bother me as it seems to bother you.”

Sam shook his head with a laugh and a breath.

“I’ve gotten used to it.  But, y’know, you and me are the only ones he has nicknames for.”

Castiel cocked his head to the side.

“He likes you…a lot, believe me.”

Castiel opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out.  He didn’t know how to respond to something like that.  Instead, he just bowed his head in thanks and took off, leaving the seraph on the beach.

The landscape beneath Castiel changed to a vibrant green, decorated with various plants Castiel wasn’t quite sure they name of.  Some of them were trees, he thought, but they didn’t look quite like the ones from yesterday.  Some of the other plants kept low to the ground, others coiled around and up other plants.  Every once in a while, Castiel would catch a splatter or tiny specks of color amongst the green.  _Flowers._   He wanted to stop and look at these flowers, but he didn’t want to chance losing Dean.  If he was making rounds or patrolling, or anything of importance, he wouldn’t be in one place for long and Castiel doubted any other be willing to tell him.  He didn’t outrank any of the other captains, they’d be under no obligation to tell him.  The soldiers in each squadron wouldn’t know.  The only others would be Sam, Lucifer and Michael.  Something told him it would be a terrible idea to even consider asking the archangels.

Perhaps if he did miss Dean, he could find Sam again and ask.  No, Sam would be just as difficult to find now.  Castiel sighed as he continued flying, watching the landscape slope down back into the ocean.  He thought over what Sam had said, a barren landscape, and wondered how far he’d have to go to find it.  He hadn’t been very specific.  Land soon rose back out of the water, the vegetation this time being fields of bright green grass, flecked with golden patches.  He distantly thought the fields vaguely reminded him of Dean’s eyes and Sam’s last comment echoed through his mind.  Dean liked him just as much as he liked Sam.  He smiled at the thought only to have it faded by the same thought.  He liked him just as much as Sam; that didn’t mean he liked him anymore than that.  He glad to have Dean’s affection, of course, but he wanted something different than what he gave Sam. 

Castiel hastily shoved the thought from his mind when the stony ground began to emerge from the fields and the air grew warmer.  He glanced to the— _west_ and saw the sun making its way towards the horizon.  He still had plenty of time, but he at least preferred to find Dean before the night settled.  Looking forward again, he saw a strip of darker color interrupting the light, near white sand and dirt.  The closer his came, the broader and more orange-tinted it looked.  Castiel swooped low, taking a few steps with his landing and walking to the edge of the strip.  He peered over the edge, seeing the rocky orange surfaced highlighted with different shades and hues of white, brown and gold.  The pattern continued down, about fifty feet to where it was interrupted by a rapid river.

“Pretty _grand_ , huh?”

Castiel snapped his head up and saw an angel laying on their on the other side of the interruption, with their legs hanging over the edge.  Castiel paused a for moment before giving a single beat of his wings and gliding over the interruption, which was nearly as wide as it was deep.  Castiel alight next to splay of six tawny wings and a seraph with folded arms, half-heartedly glaring up at the sky.

“Um, yes, I suppose it is…” Castiel hummed, “But it sounds like you don’t like it?”

Dean sighed as Castiel sat beside him.

“I don’t mind it, but…you know no one’s allowed to make modifications, right?” Dean asked.

“Of course.”

“Well, guess what.”

“…This is a modification.”

“Exactly.”

Castiel leaned forward, looking over the edge and back down to the river.  Now that he thought about it, it did seem like an odd place for a river; not that he really _knew_ where they belonged, he just assumed they went along forests or mountains.  Castiel sat back, folding his wings and propped himself up on his hands.

“Angel named ‘Hael’,” Dean sighed, “Apparently, no one had told her she wasn’t allowed to do stuff like this.  So, she decided to divert a river through here.  Said she was making a ‘canyon’, whatever that is.”

“Why did she do it?” Castiel asked.

“She thought the land out here was boring or something,” Dean shrugged.

“Not to justify her actions, but this landscape is a bit boring.”

“Yeah, you say that now,” Dean laughed.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, it looks boring when the sun’s up.  As soon as that goes down…” Dean paused, “You’ll love it.”

“What happens when the sun goes down?” Castiel asked.

“You can see the moon and stars and auras.”

“We can see those on the way here.  They are beautiful, but I don’t see why that would make this place any more interesting.”

Dean quirked a smile.

“Just give a little more time, you’ll see.”

Castiel hummed and laid back, stretching out his wings for a more comfortable position.  He let his feathers brushed against Dean’s, earning him a flinch in response.  Castiel couldn’t help but feel hurt by the action, but the immediate sincere, apologetic look Dean gave him was enough to ease it away.  Castiel settled down, catching a glimpse of Dean watching him with hesitant and anxious glint in his eyes.  They laid on the stone in silence a short while, until Castiel felt the gentle brush of feathers against his own.  Castiel craned his head back and smiled warmly at the golden-brown feathers surround his black ones.  Dean’s first and third wing outlined Castiel’s wing, coming to end just above his head and against his thigh.  The second wing remained mostly folded against Dean, but was far enough to cover about three feet of the end of Castiel’s.

Castiel felt the heat blossom in his chest again, it didn’t even bother him the feeling still had no name.  He was beyond content with the gesture and it showed, sending a quiver through his wings and transferring to Dean.  He heard the seraph snicker; he could feel it by how Dean’s wings moved with his body at the laugh.

Castiel licked his lips and willed himself to stay still.  He was now sure that he was wrong earlier.  Yes, feather grooming was reserved for angels who were closer than others.  It was something that would occur between Sam and Dean, or maybe Dean and Michael.  Himself too, evidently.  But this, letting their wings lay this way while they were _both_ aware of it…  That was not something to happen between Sam and Dean or Dean and Michael.

“Pay attention,” Dean chided.

Castiel glanced at him, trying to keep his joy under control, and turned to face the now darkened, cloudless sky.  The moon started to glow a brilliant, soft white; though a portion of it remained an inky black color, leaving it an odd shape in the sky.  _Crescent_.  Stars twinkled into appearance, something twinkling, and further illuminated the night sky, but they didn’t cast a blue canvas over the sky.  It was black, but Castiel noticed in some parts that it was turning different colors.  As more stars appeared, the discolorations became more prominent.

“Just give it another minute,” Dean commented.

Castiel narrowed his eyes at the night sky, watching it intently. Even more stars littered the sky and began to light it up in a way completely opposite of the sun.  The sun had painted the sky blue and kept the universe hidden from sight.  The moon and stars, still more appearing, revealed it.  Arcs of auras glowed in the immeasurably far distance, giving the traces of gas clouds a stunning color.  Where there were no clouds, all the auras blended together and left mixed shades of blues, violets and gold.  Occasionally, among the sea of stars, there was bolder stripe.  But it was never an obnoxiously bold one; every single one was the perfect accent to the canvas above them.

A heavy, dark violet belt stretched across the sky, lined with twisting arcs of white auras.  It was impossible to miss and was so stunningly different from the rest.  Combined with all the other soft lights of the night, it was working to steal Castiel’s breath away.

“Dean, what is that?” Castiel whispered.

“The edge of the galaxy,” Dean answered softly.

“’Galaxy’…?”

Dean hummed in response.

“And all this…it’s the same thing we see when we fly?”

“Yeah.”

“But it— it doesn’t look anything like this when we fly through it.  This…this is…”

“Amazing,” Dean finished.

“Amazing,” Castiel repeated breathlessly.

Castiel let his mouth fall open in awe as the night sky continued to brighten and sparkle.  Still more colors ran together against the see of twinkling stars, but the belt of the galaxy remained visible.  All the stars, auras and the belt slowly drifted across the night sky, like the night was discreetly showing off its beauty.  Castiel thought it was almost a— a _sin_ for the sun to cover all this with its blue sky and clouds to help it. 

The breath was forced out of him after a moment, making him realize he’d stopped breathing.  Castiel shook his head, hesitantly tearing his gaze from the starry sky and looking over at Dean.  The seraph was watching him with a small, thoughtful smile and peaceful expression.  The light of the sky had dimmed and paled Dean’s coloring, causing him to think that maybe it had done the same to him.  “It doesn’t,” Dean murmured.

“Huh?”

“It doesn’t dim your colors.”

“How did you—“

“Gabriel’s side project,” Dean admitted.

 Castiel had spoken with Gabriel earlier, he should’ve asked for more details about that, but he’d been too anxious to come to Earth and find Dean.

“Yes, he, um, said I thought too loudly,” Castiel mumbled, “Does it allow you to read minds?”

“Only what you let be read…for now.  There’s whispers that it might get a little more ‘invasive’,” Dean replied, “But, I mean, uh…”

Castiel turned his head towards Dean curiously.  Dean snapped his mouth shut, averting his gaze back to the stars overhead.  Castiel narrowed his eyes, moving slightly closer; he could see a tinge of pink coloring the seraph’s face, making his freckles stand out a little more.

“What is it, Dean?”

“I-it’s nothing,” Dean mumbled.

“I’ve never seen a seraph flustered before, something is bothering you.”

“No, nothing’s bothering me,” Dean said quickly, “I just— because you were thinkin’ it, I was gonna tell you that, uh…the moon and stars and all that, they don’t dim your colors.  They— make them more vibrant, I guess.”

He flicked his eyes back to their overlying wings.

“I thought they were just black, but they aren’t,” Dean continued, “There’s dark blue, gray and softer black.  And all this light kinda reflects off your feathers.  It’s, uh…kinda pretty…”

Castiel looked up to Dean again; he was keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the sky.  The heat in Castiel’s chest surged, rising up his throat.  He worked his mouth a few times, trying to come up with something to say. 

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel murmured.

Castiel found himself stretching his wing further under Dean’s second.  The pink tinge— _blush_ on Dean’s face deepened, spreading to the tips of his ears.  The seraph made a few vague motions; opening and closing his mouth, shifting his shoulders, moving his hands restlessly and drawing his legs of slightly.  Dean promptly stopped, once more folding his arms, crossing his legs and turning his head away for a moment.  When he turned back, Dean gave him a quick, small smile before fixing his eyes on the sky again.  The blush had faded, but the smile remained. 

They watched the sky until a blotch of pinkish-orange appeared to the _east_.  Almost immediately, the view of the galaxy vanished; replaced by a near black sky and only a handful of twinkling stars, in comparison to what it had just been.  The sun rose higher in the sky, snuffing out the stars and brightening the night sky to shades of pink, orange and violent.  The moon remained visible, but just barely as it lost its glow. 

Both angels sighed at the loss of the stunning night sky, but turned to watch the nearby star continue its rise.  A gentle breeze swept over them, ruffling their feathers, hair and clothing.  Castiel closed his eyes and hummed contentedly.  He’d love to stay this way for the rest of the day; the rest of Heaven’s day that is.  A single day of Earth’s wouldn’t be enough.  He opened his eyes at the feeling of Dean’s wings shifting around his and looked back at him.  He had his own eyes shut tightly and was stretching his arms above his head.  One leg drew up as the other stretched out and his back bowed off the ground.  With a sigh, Dean relaxed and dropped back down.  Castiel tilted his head in curiosity at him.

“What?  I’ve been laying here a while,” Dean defended.

“So, that’s what you do?”

“Yeah, because y’get a little stiff if you lay still too long.  Especially on this ground.”

Castiel shifted, then feeling a dull ache in his back and wing joints.  He could only imagine what Dean felt, having been laying there so much longer.  He stretched out, in a less grand manner than Dean, and sat up beside him, ruffling the dust from his feathers.

“Hey, uh, if you don’t know where you wanna go explore or whatever,” Dean started, “There’s something pretty cool up north.”

Castiel cocked his head; he’d been all the way north yesterday and hadn’t seen anything of potential.  Then again, he hadn’t thought the sky had the potential for the display it had just given them.

“What is it?” Castiel asked.

“If I tell you, that’ll ruin all the fun,” Dean smirked.

Castiel narrowed his eyes.

“Just trust me, you’ll like it.”

“Alright then.”

Dean grinned and shuttered his wings, shaking the dirt from them, and stood up.  He glanced down at Castiel, silently urging him to do the same.  As soon as Castiel stood, Dean took off.  Castiel sighed and rolled his eyes before taking off after him.  He was at least grateful Dean wasn’t flying full speed; a speed that would later be called _Mach 2_.

As they flew northward, the stony ground began to break up and deform itself into mountains and rolling hills covered with all sorts of trees, bushes and grass.  The trees became more and more dense until it was nearly impossible to see the ground they covered.  The thick covering was only occasionally parted by a river or mountain crest.  But eventually, the plants began to thin out as the air became cooler and crisper.  The trees grew sparse and any grass or bushes were hidden beneath a blanket of snow and frost.  Castiel noticed the sunlight fading fast, giving way to a premature night.  Blue-gray clouds scattered over the dark sky, hiding a majority of the stars, but the moon continued to shine brightly and illuminated the snow beneath them.

“Why is it night so soon?” Castiel called.

“The north and south points don’t have normal days, they stay either night or day for about half the Earth’s rotation ‘round the sun.”

“I don’t understand.  Why?”

“It has something to do with the way the earth spins.  It kinda goes on its side, so one end is always pointed towards the sun and the other isn’t.  They switch half way through each year.”

The last of the daylight disappeared from sight, giving way to the night once more.  Castiel gave a small smile when stars dotted over the sky, quickly filling it once more.  Along with the bright moon, all the light reflected off the snow, illuminating everything almost as much as it had at the canyon; even without the help of the auras and belts outside of earth.  Castiel followed Dean down the snowy ground; Castiel hesitated on landing, given his recent experience with landing in the snow.  He watched as Dean gave a single, powerful beat of his wings and blasted away a significant amount of snow, revealing the chilled ground not too far below the blanket of snow.  Castiel touched down beside Dean, grateful the ground here wasn’t quite as cold— _freezing_ as it had been at the southern point.

Castiel moved to lay down, as they had before, only to stop when he heard Dean clear his throat.  He glanced up curiously at the seraph and narrowed his eyes at the smirk the other angel wore.

“Are we not going to lay down and watch the sky…?” Castiel asked cautiously.

“Well, you can if you want to…” Dean grinned, “But I doubt you’ll want to.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’ll see soon.”

“I have to wait again?” Castiel deadpanned.

“What, was it not worth it last time?” Dean huffed.

“It was.”

“Alright then, trust me on this too.”

Castiel hummed impatiently, folding his wings and arms.  He stared at Dean for a moment, who was watching the sky like he was waiting for something.  Castiel flicked his gaze upwards, looking for whatever sign Dean was waiting on.  He glanced back down at Dean, then shifting his eyes between him and the sky.  A cool wind swept over the snow, dusting the cleared ground around them and ruffling their clothes, feathers and hair.

“There,” Dean smiled.

Castiel snapped his head back up, following Dean’s gaze.  A small patch of pastel yellow hung in air, seeming dancing with the wind.  The color danced up and down at a relaxed pace and was soon accompanied by a translucent sheet of gold.  Even when the wind stopped, the two colors continued their shifting.  Soft oranges appeared on either side, followed by light reds.  The colors shifted in random patterns, twinkling with every movement.  A sheet of cool green appeared, hanging perpendicular right against the yellow.  A darker green came to its side; one the color of Dean’s eyes, Castiel noted.  Beside that, a blue-green the same shade as the ocean waters, then the rich blue like the aura Dean had said matched Castiel’s eyes. 

The ribbon of color continued on, fading out with a near white blue.  Intersecting both that stream and the first one was a wave of violets, pinks and deep reds.  More sheets of thin, moving colors appeared and filled the sky, obscuring the stars.  They were similar to the auras they’d played in on the first day, but not exactly the same.  It was like these ones were alive with the way they danced and shimmered.

“Aurora Borealis,” Dean murmured.

Of all the names Castiel had heard so far, that one had to be among the strangest.  But he hardly gave it a second thought as he was overwhelmed with the desire to fly through the aurora.  Dean could see it on his face and gave a soft laugh, knowing he’d been right.  He spread his wings and lifted several feet off the ground.  Castiel was right behind him, though he was thoroughly transfixed on the aurora.  Dean rolled his eyes with a half grin and rose up, drifting through the pastel yellow that had appeared first.  The auras outside of earth had given them a warm, buzzing feeling while the aurora here washed over them with a cool calmness.

He rolled over on to his back, working his first and third set of wings to keep him suspended while the second kept him balanced.  He watched Castiel with amusement as the other angel now above him passed through the sheets and ribbons with awe and confusion.  Not one strand was straight, they all curved and zig-zagged; sometimes even breaking from the line completely for a moment before disappearing or reattaching.  Castiel tried to tease the aurora as Dean had done on the first day, but it wouldn’t entertain his attempts.  The colors ignored Castiel’s movements and kept on with their slow dance.

After he’d given up on trying to manipulate the aurora, he sighed and drifted down next to Dean, just above the aurora’s lowest reach.

“Told you you wouldn’t want to lay down and just watch,” Dean smirked.

“Yes, you did…” Castiel murmured, “How did you find this?”

“Decided to take a little extra time here on patrol,” Dean shrugged.

Right, Dean was currently on duty.  Yet, he’d been shirking that responsibility.

“Shouldn’t you have been patrolling this whole time?” Castiel asked.

“Yeah, probably…” Dean mused, “I should get moving again.”

“That would probably be a wise idea,” Castiel smirked, “I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble again.”

It was meant as a joke, but it was clearly lost on Dean.  In fact, it seemed to put a trace of fear and concern on his face.  Castiel’s expression fell and he righted himself.  Dean righted himself as well and spread his wings, preparing to take off.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—“

“No, you’re fine, you’re right,” Dean interrupted, “I, uh, better get going.”

“What about tomorrow?”

Dean paused for a moment, tilting his head at him.

“I mean, will you be on duty tomorrow or…?”

“Actually, all of us are going to be on duty, except Gabriel and Richard.  They’re hanging back to watch Heaven and the civilians.”

“Richard…?”

“His seraph,” Dean laughed.

Castiel narrowed his eyes in thought, then noting the seraph’s name.  Now it was only Raphael’s seraph he didn’t know the name of.  But that wasn’t particularly important.  What was important was that there was going to be three archangels and seraphim on Earth tomorrow.

“What’s important about tomorrow?” Castiel asked.

“I’m not completely sure, but even if I was, I wouldn’t wanna ruin all the fun,” Dean grinned.

“That’s hardly fair.”

“Aww, c’mon, you’ll find out soon enough.  The day’s almost over.”

“Yes, I suppose it is…I should return to Heaven then…?”

“Yeah, and I, uh, should go make sure Hael or anyone else didn’t make anymore modifications,” Dean sighed, then smiled, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Cas.”

“Of course,” Castiel replied.

Dean nodded, looking away to hide his smile and creeping blush.  Without another word, Dean’s wings flared and snapped down, propelling him up and away in a strong enough burst of wind that nearly tipped Castiel over.  Dean shot him an apologetic look, though he knew Castiel wouldn’t see it as he neared the cloud cover, but he was now in a hurry.  Michael was already fairly strongly against Dean spending time with Castiel and he had dared to slack off to do just that. 

Dean soared through the sky, quickly scanning his eyes over everything to make sure nothing else, apart from the canyon, had changed.  There were a few things different, snapped trees, broken boulders, divots in the ground, but he could sense none of it was intentional modification.  These were all accidents from angels playing or not paying attention; time would heal those, but it wouldn’t heal the canyon.  It would only worsen it.

He banked to the left and changed course, sailing towards the south.  As he did, he carefully maneuvered one wing at a time to bring closer to his face and inspect for any black feathers that might’ve gotten lodged again, having learned from yesterday.  He found five of them, all in his left wings, since those had been the ones around and layered over Castiel’s.  He plucked them out and tucked them in the inside of his belt, against the skin of his hip, along with the feather from yesterday.  After Michael had gotten through with punishing him yesterday, Dean had retrieved the feather and kept it.  Sam had advised against it, but Dean had pointedly ignored his warning.

 The vegetation grew thinner, disappearing altogether over some stretches of land, as the air grew warmer and the sun brighter.  From his height, Dean could even see the edges of the ocean coming closer.  As the land narrowed, the vegetation sprung back in thick patches.  White-gold sand lined the forests, serving as a thin line between the plants and gently lapping blue ocean water.  Eventually, the beach widened, decorated with piles of bright, sun-bleached boulders.  Standing atop one of the boulders was Michael.

He stood with his arms crossed and wings folded, wearing a stern expression that Dean knew meant Michael probably already knew he’d shirked off on patrolling.  He hadn’t exactly done the best job at keeping that fact hidden from Michael, thanks to Gabriel’s project of connecting angels, but he was confident he did a well enough job hiding the fact that he’d been with Castiel.  And really, it was better if he hid only that.

Dean landed on the boulder beside the one Michael stood on and wrinkled his nose for a moment at the salty spray of the ocean that came every few seconds.  He straightened up, settling and folding his wings, then cleared his throat to get the archangel’s attention.  Michael glanced at him from the corner of his eye and sighed, looking back the ocean for a second before turning to face him.

“Why do you do these things?” Michael asked.

Dean swallowed thickly, but gave no answer.  Michael could be referring to a number of things and Dean had no intention of accidentally implicating something Michael didn’t know yet.

“All you had to do was patrol for a day, _one day_ , and yet you decided to take naps, explore and star-watch,” Michael continued, “And you thought a quick flight around the north before coming here would suddenly make up for, all the while praying nothing else had happened.”

So, Michael knew about Hael and her ‘grand canyon’.  Dean nodded slightly, eyes flicking to the ground.

“You know better, I know you do.  I know you are capable of commanding awe, fear and respect, otherwise you would not be a seraph.  Let alone mine,” Michael said, “So, all I want to know is why you’ve suddenly decided to act like a child.  Is this because of _Castiel_?”

Dean tensed at Castiel’s name, effectively giving his answer to the question.  Michael bristled and twitched his lip in anger, unfolding his arms and wings.

“Is this angel really going to become a problem?” Michael seethed, “Did you not learn yesterday?”

“Of course, I did,” Dean snipped, “He’s not going to be a problem.”

“Good, I’d hate to have to transfer or demote such a good captain for being nothing more than a distraction to a general.”

Dean clenched his jaw, biting back any immediate response.  Michael eyed him for a second, then gave the smallest smirk when Dean almost visibly swallowed any response he had.  Both of them shifted their attention to the sky as they noticed two figures approaching.  Lucifer flew just barely ahead of Sam; the both of them coming to land on boulders a short distance from Michael and Dean.  The two archangels regarded each other with wary eyes.

Dean and Sam instinctively took a half step in between the archangels, prepared for yet another fight between the two. 

“Raphael and Demore are on their way,” Michael commented.

“Do they know what they’re escorting?” Lucifer asked.

“No, Father’s newest creation is completely sealed within the asteroid.”

“Do _you_ know what they’re escorting?” Lucifer specified.

“…Yes.”

“Are you going to tell us?  Or was that against Father’s orders as well?”

“They do not have a name yet, that decision is up to us.”

“’Us’…?”

“Yes, _us_.”

“There’s more than one…whatever it— they are?” Sam interrupted.

He glanced between the two archangels, inwardly relieved when both their postures relaxed.

“Yes and no,” Michael answered, “It won’t be easy to explain, but you’ll see when the asteroid arrives.”

Lucifer didn’t seem content with the answer, he maintained a hard glare at the older archangel.  Michael let out a breath, glancing at the two seraphim before deciding to at least try to explain what was coming.  Dean and Sam listened as well, but Michael wasn’t the best at explaining it.  It’s not that he was bad at it, it was more that the concepts hadn’t yet occurred to the angels because they weren’t supposed to until the asteroid arrived.  The more he tried to help them understand, the worse their confusion became until Michael finally gave up and moved on.  Most of his conversation was with Lucifer, and thankfully it looked like the two were remaining civil.

Dean and Sam relaxed, stepping off to the side.  Dean turned and went to sit down on a raised boulder, only to have his muscles seize when one of the hidden feathers brushed against a fairly low point on the inside joint of his hip.  Sam glanced at him, looked away, and immediately snapped his head back to Dean.  He knitted his brows together in confusion at Dean’s suddenly flushed face.

“Are you okay…?” Sam murmured.

“Uh, y-yeah,” Dean cleared his throat, “’M just fine.”

Dean straightened up, adjusting his belt in hopes of moving the stowed feathers away from the apparently sensitive area.  He cleared his throat once more and sat down quickly this time.  Sam eyed him for a moment, suspicious of his behavior, before he shrugged and sat down beside him as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry i didn't mean to take so long :( i just got busy with work and school and day was kinda lame tbh but hey at least it's a decent sized update right?  
>  _Dean stop being such a lazy laid back general_
> 
> as always, comments are super awesome and make you super awesome if you leave one


	5. The Fifth Day: Life

They watched as the asteroid hurled closer, bursting into flames upon entrance.  Raphael and Demore were hardly more than a glimmer on either side of the massive rock.  The two seraphim and archangels tensed and flinched as the asteroid roared over them, close enough to feel the intense heat, before burrowing itself deep into the ground and setting the surrounding vegetation on fire.  The fire erupted high and fast, darkening the sky with smoke within seconds.  Michael reacted first, stirring up the ocean water to arc over their heads and rain down on the fire.  Lucifer immediately followed suit while Sam and Dean parted around the fire to the other and fanned their wings at it to keep it from marching on.

It took almost several dozen deluges of water before the blaze was reduced to a few smoldering embers and left over ten acres of land charred and blackened.  The smoke remained hanging heavy above them, slowly mixing in with the clouds.  The angels watched the land for a moment before relaxing; save for Michael.  Michael stood rigid, bristling his wings and clenching his jaw in an effort to remain calm.  He turned deliberately around to face Raphael and Demore, who had reached them once he and Lucifer had almost extinguished the fire.

“You were supposed to slow it,” Michael stated evenly, “To prevent _exactly_ this.”

“We did slow it,” Raphael bit, “I think you underestimated its power and momentum.”

“I did n—“

“Michael,” Dean interrupted.

“What?” Michael snapped.

“I think the, uh…’new creation’ is coming out now…”

The three archangels and other two seraphim turned to look where Dean was staring.  For a moment, they saw nothing but the steam lazily rolling up from the crater.  Michael took a few steps closer and saw a pile of ash shift and twist in on itself.  The chalky gray-black of the ash was swallowed up by a gleaming ink black.  The black mass, currently no bigger than a rose bush, heaved itself forward and collapsed, flattening over the charred ground and taking in more ash.

“What is it?” Raphael asked quietly.

“We get to name it…” Lucifer drawled, side-eyeing Michael.

The mass inched its rear half up, folding over itself and regaining its roundish shape.  It shifted to the side and a dripping tendril pulled away from it, slapping loud against the ground.  The tendril retracted a bit before tensing and partially raising itself.  The mass shifted the opposite way, putting its weight towards the tendril, and another on emerged from it and likewise raised off the ground.  The mass paused for a minute, looking like it was bracing itself, before the tendrils strained under the weight of it lifting its front half.  A bulge formed on the mass between the two tendrils and twitched frantically.

The angels tilted their heads, staring at the strange new creation.  The bulge tore wide open, letting a forked tongue loll out over dozens of razor sharp teeth.  It lifted itself hire on more stable tendrils, now solidifying to look more like disjointed, lean arms.  The mass pulled its tongue back into its mouth, part way, and curled what they assumed were its lips back over the teeth in a Cheshire grin.  It raised its head, breathing deep and hard, and dropped its jaw in an earsplitting, screeching roar.

All the angels winced at the high pitched sound, taking an instinctive step back.  The mass moved a twisted arm forward and began to drag itself closer to them.

“What _is_ that?” Lucifer hissed.

The creature paused, shifting side to side, then raised its rear half on equally disjointed looking legs.  It shook its head, appearing to smile as it started an uncoordinated walk that was quickly becoming coordinated.  Feeling more confident in its movements, the creature picked up the pace and was nearly running at them; slack-jawed and dripping thick, oily liquid.  It angled for Lucifer and the archangel wasted no time in drawing an angel blade and moving forward to meet the creature.  He swung the blade and decapitated it in a single, fluid motion.  The head fell to the ground with a wet thud, as did the body, and rolled a short distance before settling against a rock.

“ _Lucifer!_ ” Michael and Raphael barked in unison.

“What?” Lucifer snapped, “That— _thing_ should not be.”

“That is not for you to decide,” Michael growled, “Father wanted it here for a reason.”

“And what reason is that, hm?  Why is he only telling _you_ these things?”

“I would assume it’s because you clearly—“

“Guys,” Dean interrupted again.

Instinctively, the group of angels turned their attention to the creature’s lifeless body.  Its head was being dragged by some unseen force and reattaching itself.  The creature gave a shudder and slowly pushed itself back up; but it wasn’t the only thing moving now.  Behind it, several more things like it were crawling and dragging themselves from the asteroid’s impact, rising up in different stances, but all moving in the same halting manner.

“I don’t care what you or Father say, these things shouldn’t be here,” Lucifer stated.

Without waiting for a response from the others, Lucifer surged forward and cleaved the head off of another creature.  The head flew off and landed a good distance away, while the body fell against another creature and knocked it to the ground.  The second creature struggled under the weight of the corpse before going still.  The corpse, however, appeared to started melting on top of the other.  The living one gave a short seizure before it attempted to rise back to its feet.

All the angels, and the other creatures, stopped and stared at it; now twice the size it had been before.  It had absorbed the body of the one that fell on it.  The creatures looked back and forth from each other; it felt like several of them might be cautiously side-eyeing the angels, if they had eyes.  The first creature that had risen from the crater turned its head back to the angels with a disturbing grin on its face.

The creature charged forward, moving with a considerable amount more ease than before, straight for Lucifer.  The archangel sidestepped it just as its teeth gnashed down where he had been standing and, in the same motion, he swung the angel blade and severed what would be considered its muzzle.  The creature howled in pain, reeling back and shaking its head; sending black goo everywhere.  The inky blackness falling from its face thickened and coagulated until it had formed a replacement for the lost body part.  It was snarling and gnashing its teeth at Lucifer again before he had any time to react, though he was able to defend himself.

Raphael moved to help him, but was caught off guard by another creature tackling him to the ground.  Raphael kept his arms locked, keeping it at arm’s length, as it strained its neck towards him, snapping its teeth.

Michael tensed, making a decision.  He knocked the creature off of Raphael, quickly sinking an angel blade into its skull and then grabbing the other by a leg and tearing it away from Lucifer.  Both Raphael and Lucifer stared at him for a moment.

“…Keep the gates closed,” Michael murmured.

 

Though he had spoken it softly, it was still an order from an archangel; one that rang very clearly over the mental connection they now all shared, thanks to Gabriel.  Both he and his seraph stood at the top of the stairs leading the pearlescent gates.  The civilian angels hadn’t heard Michael’s order, he’d kept it limited to Gabriel, his seraph and the squad captains.  It was Gabriel who informed the civilian angels that the gates were staying closed today, at least for part of the day.  He didn’t fully explain why, just that there was something potentially harmful on Earth.  A few angels were upset at that, but not many of them questioned it.  They just watched the militant angels organizing and preparing to leave; Castiel among them.

The militant angels didn’t have much to go to prepare themselves; though that was no one’s fault.  Images of the inky black creatures flitted through the minds in the archangels and seraphim’s attempts to explain the situation.  They got the gist of it; these creatures were dangerous and should not be.  They were to be killed on sight, however, they didn’t die easily; which was why they, the angels, were being called as reinforcements.  In every image they saw, the creatures were either bigger than before, shaped different, or there were dozens more.

At Gabriel’s signal, the squadrons began taking off.  They flew as fast as they could while maintain formation, but when a chilling feeling sank in, one that told them the archangels and seraphim were having to use their trueforms to keep their ground against these— _monsters_ , they managed to fly faster.  In record time, for them, the Earth soon came into view. 

Nearly all the rich blues and greens were gone, replaced with dark inky blues that bordered on black and charred earth spotted with mounds of black.  Drawing closer, the angels could some of the mounds moving.  Groups of them were moving together in certain directions; they were moving towards archangels.  The angels broke through the atmosphere and were met with the harrowing sight of a ruined earth, nothing had been sparred by these monsters’ rampage; even the sky had grown darker, despite being daytime.  The sky was only illuminated by steady glows in the distance and frequent bright flashes of light, followed by deafening thunder.

An order echoed through the minds of all the angels, they were to go aid the archangel they served under.  The Host of angels broke off into three parts, each soaring for their commanding archangel.  The chilling feeling from before intensified as they came closer to their archangels.  Later on, humans would describe them as beautiful or stunning.  But that would only be a partial description.  Archangels were _horrifyingly_ beautiful.  They weren’t the aesthetically pleasing beings looking similar to humans in white robes; they were aesthetically jarring and unnerving. 

Michael towered over the monsters— _leviathans._ His robes, now tattered and stained, swirled around him with every motion.  There were flashes of darkened skin pulled almost obscenely taunt over his lean, muscled and strangely configured body.  But the hood of his robes managed to remain up, covering nearly half his face.  The lower half of his face was somewhat muzzle like, and his mouth opening in a vicious warring roar, flashing dangerously sharp teeth.  His wings stretched and fanned out in a display of dominance, obscuring any light that was managing to make it through the clouds.  His halo, now visible and appearing like rough gold ore, hung almost vertical behind his head, spinning slowly. 

There was hardly any time for awe and admiration as another thunderous roar tore from him, followed by a swing of his arm and a blinding arch of light that sliced through a leviathan.  The beast collapsed in two heaps, both spewing and pulsing tar.  Michael whirled around, swinging and striking at another leviathan with a snarl.  The angels wondered what Michael was attacking with, and when he turned yet again to attack the leviathan that had just been cleaved in half and was now pulling itself back together, they had their answer.  That answer also told them why they had yet to see any seraphim anywhere; seraphim were weapons.

Castiel swallowed thickly, now seeing the bright and lethal blade in Michael’s hands.  That was Dean.  The flashes rolling off the blade were a combination of Dean and Michael’s grace, solidifying into vicious arches that gouged the ground as they cut through leviathans.  Michael impaled the blade through a leviathans skull, sending cracks and arcs of light all across its body and reaching out for any nearby victims, followed by a deep, rumbling sound— _lightning, thunder._

A piercing shriek disturbingly close to them quickly reminded Castiel they had a job to do.  Before he could even formulate any kind of plan, a leviathan was already throwing their ranks apart and scattering them.  They tried to regroup, but the leviathan was splitting itself apart; three leviathans sent the angels scattering again.  The creature was now only about a third of its previous size, but it was no less fearsome and was still of titanic size.

That was when another command echoed through their minds.  _Just fight._   It was simple, rough, and to be honest, desperate.  There was no time to come up with any kind of strategy, the leviathans were destroying the earth at an alarming rate.  It took dozens of angels to take on a single leviathan, another testament to an archangel’s might, especially when aided by a seraph, but the help of the Host was enough to start slowing the leviathans.  Many of the monsters were forced into splitting themselves apart to compensate for the hoard of angels.  The leviathans were faster like this, it was easier for them to slip around the archangels and escape teams of angels.  Every single one that slipped by sent waves of anger rolling off an archangel as they had to retreat further back to catch and kill, or rather, temporarily kill, the escapee. 

The archangels had tried to make a line of defense, protecting as much of the earth as they could.  But that line was continually shrinking back with every leviathan they had to chase down.  All the angels realized just how much ground had been lost when the other angels came into view; they were down to only a few hundred acres left unscathed.  When the archangels saw each other, the anger and frustration thrummed through the air. 

It was Lucifer who changed tactics first.  Michael and Raphael continued fighting, even harder now that Lucifer had turned his back.  Castiel could see the grace coiling around his arms, gathering until it was tangible and began rolling down.  He used the gleaming trident, _Sam_ , to guide the flow of it to the earth and flared his wings.  He soared in a wide arch, grace curling down the length of the trident and being guided onto the ground as he circled what remained of the earth, leaving a gleaming and glittering trail.  When he came to a sudden halt, landing hard, he turned and opened his mouth; a rain fire pouring out.  The flames immediately took the grace on the ground, the fire rocketing along the trail and forming a complete ring within a fraction of a second.  Holy fire.  Another heartbeat later, the fires rose nearly as tall as the archangels and burned with such intensity and rage that it could be felt miles away.

The leviathans shrieked and screamed as they stumbled back from the flames that now protected the last bit of untouched earth.  There would be no more that managed to get by the angels and ruin more of their Father’s beautiful creation.  The frustration and anger of the angels was quelled, turning to a renewed sense of confidence.  Without having to worry about defense, the angels were able to turn the tides of the war and begin forcing the leviathans back. 

The beasts fought harder and more chaotically, desperate to turn the war back in their favor.  They stopped splitting to make up numbers and started merging again, trying to amass a leviathan larger than an archangel.  The angels fought to keep smaller leviathan away from it while the archangels slashed and stabbed at it, working to tear it apart again.  The forming monster staggered and stumbled back, but was always quick to pull its severed parts back together.  It let out a furious cry when the angels forced it back to the ocean waters.  The archangels continued hacking and shoving at the leviathan, forcing it deeper into the ocean until it could barely stand with its head above water. 

Raphael and Lucifer relinquished their weapons, their seraphim, to hold the leviathan down beneath the water.  Michael remained on the shore, stabbing his sword into the ground and began reciting something in Enochian.  A low glow appeared from the depths of the ocean, glowing brighter and sending the leviathan into a panicked frenzy.  It thrashed violently in the water, sending crashing waves and swells in all directions.  The leviathan scrambled and struck the archangels hard several times as tentacles rose up from the water to strike at any and everything else.  It managed to strike down dozens of angels, sending them crashing into the ocean.  Angels made attempts to rescue those in the water, since becoming drenched made it very difficult to get back out.

Castiel was among those trying to help, soaring around the leviathan’s flailing limbs and pulling other angels out to dry land.  He’d managed to save six angels before it felt like something had tried to snap him in half and drown him underwater.  He quickly resurfaced, only to be sprayed by the salty water before a wave curled above him and came crashing down; sending him under once more.  He tumbled beneath the water, struggling to right himself and find the surface again.  One of the leviathan’s tentacles swept low over the surface, just in time for Castiel to sink his hands into the slippery, tar-like flesh.  The tentacle pulled him free of the water, flinging him into the air.  He let go and flared his wings to catch himself, but it did him no good.  They were drenched and refused to catch wind, not mention they felt like they suddenly weighed a ton.

He tumbled down through the air, reaching out for anything to catch him.  He managed to catch another tentacle with one hand and held on tightly as it whipped around, trying shake him and strike another angel.  When he saw the tentacle going for the water, Castiel threw himself from it and caught another one.  It behaved just the same, but that was actually to his advantage.  All the flailing and whipping helped his wings dry out faster.  He waited until the tentacle swung up and let go of it again, trying once more to take flight.  This time his wings did catch the air; and a tentacle caught across the back. 

He spiraled down, bracing himself and fully expecting contact with another part of the leviathan or the ocean.  What he wasn’t expecting was for something to catch him by the ankle and stop his fall.   He relaxed just enough to look up and see Dean’s worried face just as relief washed over him.

The glow from the water grew brighter with Michael’s continued chanting, frightening the monster even more.  The two archangels redoubled their efforts to keep it in place and it kept struggling.  Even Sam and Demore had now come to aid, as themselves and not weapons, which had Dean making a quick decision.  He turned slightly, giving himself a little more power to hurl Castiel away from the leviathan before immediately joining into the fray himself.

Castiel skidded across the sand, coming to abrupt halt; thanks to a boulder.  He got to his feet, dazed, and watched as the team of five angels kept the leviathan subdued while other angels rescued the remaining ones in the water.  There was deep thud that pulsed from the depths of the ocean, the glow becoming even brighter, and suddenly it was like something was pulling the leviathan down further.  It roared and screeched in fear, scrambling at the archangels and seraphim; if it was going down, so were they.  It had sunk claws deep into Lucifer, razor sharp teeth into Raphael, and was grabbing at the air to snatch the seraphim.  It caught Sam in one of its hands, if you could call them that, and liquefied its fingers enough to start forming a cocoon around him.

Dean responded before Demore did, surging forward and coiling his grace around his arm; swinging it like a blade when he came close and severing the hand from the body.  He flared his wings to a stop and double back in less than a second, catching Sam and likewise throwing him to shore.  The moment he let go of Sam was the moment tar was encircling him, rapidly restricting his movements and crushing him.  He squirmed and struggled, but he couldn’t move enough to free himself.  The ocean water rose up quickly around him as the leviathan dragged him under with it.  He fought and struggled harder, he even tried screaming, but to no avail.  He was only rewarded with lungfuls of water.

There was a swipe of massive clawed hand through the water, one that didn’t belong to the leviathan.  Dean immediately knew it was Lucifer’s claws severing the appendage holding him captive.  The flesh around him relaxed and loosened enough for him to escape and to start swimming back to the surface, but his movements were slow.  His entire body was thoroughly waterlogged and tar still clung to him.  He broke the surface of the water, trying to gasp for air, only to be reminded of the water filling his lungs.  He felt his body begin to sink back into the water and struggled to stay above.

The glow from the depths flashed brightly, almost blindingly, before the ocean turned dark once more and began to grow calm again; the massive leviathan locked away somewhere down below.  The ocean continued to dark, as did the sky and the land; everything.  Everything Dean looked at darkened and it became more of a challenge to move.  He reached up one more time before all his sight turned black and he lost feeling.  Even the feeling of the hands the firmly took hold of his and pulled him from the water.

Castiel might’ve had a hard time before believing that Dean was actually this heavy, but between him being waterlogged with tar still clinging to him and now knowing his trueform was a blade sized for Michael’s titanic trueform, he could believe it now.  It took all of Castiel’s strength to get him to the beach, Dean’s body dragging through the water all the while.

When he hauled him onto the beach, Castiel didn’t know what to do.  He, nor anyone for that matter, had ever heard of a seraph in a situation such as this.  He didn’t even know what it was called.  All he knew was that Dean was completely unmoving and was much paler than before.  He didn’t even flinch when the wind dusted sand up over him.  Castiel scowled and crawled over to his side, settling between Dean and the direction the wind was coming from, then spreading his wings to create somewhat of a shield from the sand.

Castiel leaned forward and gently brushed away the small particles of sand before sitting back and watching the seraph intently, mentally willing him to get up.  The longer he stared, the more upset he became.  At first, he’d been upset that Dean had done something reckless.  He was a seraph, he knew better.  He was supposed to always be careful, quick, dangerous and lethal; seconded only by archangels and God.  Not seconded by some twisted, horrific black mass of a creature.  Then Castiel was upset at Sam for the exact same reason.  He should’ve been able to take care of himself, to not let himself get into such a situation.

Of course, he was upset and angry with the leviathans.  But, for some reason, he was finding it hard to justify why.  When they had fought, he could feel something different about them; something about the way they thought.  It wasn’t like the angels; their minds weren’t organized, they didn’t follow orders.  Their minds were chaos and they knew nothing else.  It was their fault they’d immediately waged war on the angels, no doubt there, but did they even know why they were doing it?

Then, suddenly, Castiel found himself angry with their Father.  He created these things, he knew _everything_ about them.  He knew what they were capable of, what they would do, how they thought (or didn’t think), the destruction they would bring, how well the angels could defend… And he still sent them.

Castiel bristled and gritted his teeth in anger, curling his fists tightly until his knuckles turned white.  The sound of something struggling against the sand rose above the sound of gentle waves.  Castiel snapped his head to the side to see a strange, small creature flopping about in the wet sand.  With each wave, the ocean water moved the small thing around, causing it further distress.  Castiel found himself rising to his feet and stalking over to the creature; it was probably another one of those leviathans that hadn’t merged with another.  But he could stop that from happening.  He deliberately marched up to the tiny leviathan and raised his foot to crush it.

“Don’t step on that fish, Castiel.”

Castiel faltered in his movements, but quickly steadied himself.  He didn’t need to look to see who it was.  Only seraphim and archangels dared to give orders in such a tone.  And with Dean in the state that he was in, it was no surprise that Michael had come to the beach, once again in his compressed and less terrifying form.  Castiel straightened himself up, doing his best to stow his anger as Michael approached.  The archangel folded his wings against his back, looking between Dean, Castiel and the ‘ _fish_ ’.  He took a moment, deciding what to do first.

“There are big plans for that fish,” Michael stated.

“Is it not the same as those leviathans?” Castiel asked.

“No.  This small creature is entirely differently, though it did rise from the remnants of the leviathan.”

Castiel opened his mouth to ask another question, but shut it at the warning look Michael gave him.  Michael made it clear he was not going to give him any more information on the fish.  He also made it clear that he didn’t intend to help it.  He let it continue flopping and struggling as he moved to kneel down beside Dean.  He studied his still form before placing a hand over Dean’s forehead.

“Unconscious…” Michael murmured, like it was the first time he’d used the word.

His hand drifted down to Dean’s middle, just below his ribs, and glowed with faint trace of grace.  He kept his hand there for a few moments before suddenly pressing hard against Dean.  Castiel flinched as Dean’s body seized, water spurting from his mouth.  Michael relaxed and shoved his hand down against the seraph once more, eliciting the same reaction.  Then Michael stood up and stepped away as Dean rolled awkwardly to his side, curling in on himself and coughing up mouthfuls of water in between ragged breaths.

“He will be fine,” Michael said.

He helped Dean up to his hands and knees, making both breathing and hacking up water slightly easier for him.  Michael kept Dean steady as he calmed down and Castiel struggled with the twisting feeling in his stomach and throat.  It was a strange feeling that he associated with the one he felt when he and Dean spent time together, although this one was not pleasant.  It filled him with the urge to storm over to them and push the archangel away and take his place helping Dean.

Michael glared over his shoulder at Castiel, quickly reminding him of the link all angels shared.  Castiel blanched and tried to stuff the feeling down as deep as he could to make it appear vanished.  Michael eyed him a moment longer before turning back to Dean.  Dean was breathing deep and evenly now, having expelled all the water from his lungs.  Castiel pointedly kept his gaze fixed on the sand at their feet as Michael helped Dean up and ignored the words the archangel spoke to the seraph.  He intended to wait for Michael to leave, hoping that now that the leviathan problem had settled, they might have the chance to spend the rest of the day together again.

Castiel saw the tense, controlled angered look on Michael’s face and the apologetic one on Dean’s.  Castiel could tell the apology wasn’t meant for Michael, but for him.  They wouldn’t be spending the day together.  At least, not right now.  Dean begrudgingly followed Michael as he took off; there was no doubt in Castiel’s mind he was going to be reprimanded yet again.  Castiel couldn’t help but scowl at their retreating forms, barely making an effort to keep his feelings hidden from the other angels.  He huffed and gritted his teeth, turning and glaring down at the struggling fish.  He walked closer to the fish until the creature was at his feet.  It stopped flopping for a moment, staring wide-eyed up at him and gasping for breath.

Castiel lifted his foot once more, though this time not to step on it.  It wasn’t a leviathan, as he’d thought, and didn’t deserve to be crushed under his heel.  Instead, he scooped the creature up on his foot and promptly tossed just beyond the breakers of the ocean. 

Once he saw it splash back into the water, Castiel huffed and took off himself to relocate the members of his squadron.  He’d made the decision to do so only seconds before Lucifer’s order to regroup and return to the last surviving patch of earth.  It didn’t take Castiel long to find the members of his squadron, most of them had managed to stay together in twos or threes, but there was a handful he had yet to find.  He sent most of the squadron off to the rendezvous point; keeping everyone together and looking for others was more effort than necessary.  Only Balthazar and Anna remained with him as he continued his search for the last few angels.

Anna spotted an angel of their squadron laying hidden behind a splintered tree, beside a pool of tar.  Castiel had an uneasy feeling and told both her and Balthazar to stay back.  They listened; to an extent.  They crept closer, but kept their distance.  As Castiel came closer to the angel, he thought that perhaps they were, what was the word Michael used?  Unconscious?  If that was the case, Castiel thought about he was supposed to revive them.  Michael saved Dean by somehow forcefully expelling enough water from Dean’s lungs for him to wake up and expel the rest on his own.  This angel wasn’t in such a situation. 

The ground became particularly ashy and crispy around the angel.   Darker streaks and patches on either side of them, the odd patch extending only from their sides in an— _oh._

The angel’s wings.  Their grace had burned out violently through their wings, scorching their likeness into the ground.  And if their wings had burned away in such a manner, the angel was— _dead._   The new word rung through Castiel’s mind with a heavy weight as the definition drifted into his mind.  The angel was gone; they would never fly, stand, move, or even so much as move their eyes ever again.  This was just an empty shell he was looking at; one whose ghostly, glassy eyes stared back.  A chill ran down Castiel’s spin as he knelt beside the body.  He wasn’t sure why, but he reached out and gingerly moved the angel’s eyelids down to cover their eyes.  Perhaps it was because he found the staring unnerving.

He remained crouched beside the angel a little while longer, wondering how they died.  Not in the sense of what it was that killed them, but more in the sense of how could they die?  Angels lived for eternity; they were God’s perfect creation.  They were glorious beings who didn’t age, didn’t fall ill and, until now, didn’t die.  Once again, Castiel felt the same anger and frustration from before.  How could their father let such a thing happen?  Not only that, but in a certain respect, how could he do that to them?

Castiel stood abruptly, swallowing a snarl and striding back to Anna and Balthazar.  They asked why the other angel wasn’t coming with, but Castiel didn’t reply.  He did his best to compose himself and let his new knowledge filter through the shared connection.  Anna and Balthazar bowed their heads, avoiding eye contact with one and other as the realization sank in.  But Castiel didn’t stop with them, he willingly shared it with _everyone_.  Confusion, disbelief and sorrow filled the connection until it was too much and Castiel withdrew from it for the time being.

They resumed their search for the remaining missing angels, finding three more dead.  Castiel’s squadron wasn’t the only to suffer death.  He tentatively skirted the connection and found that nearly every single squadron had experienced death.  After that, Castiel ordered Anna and Balthazar to go to the rendezvous and told them he would be there shortly. 

He found two more angels, one from his squadron and the other not, but both lay dead with their wings scorched around them.  Castiel swallowed his anger and frustration, telling himself to just go to the rendezvous before he say anymore of his brethren lying dead.  But something compelled him to wander just bit further away.  He made his way down a hillside of splintered and fallen trees, down to a stream attempting to clean itself leviathan blood, if you could call it that. 

There was a gentle rustle of twigs and mud that had Castiel flinching and drawing his blade in defense.  His eyes swept over the area carefully, looking for the source of the noise; a strangled cough drew his attention down to a fallen tree.  He approached it cautiously, though he did lower his blade, and found a bloodied angel laying on the otherside.  The angel took notice of Castiel peering down at him and struggled to keep his eyes focused while drawing in ragged breathes.

“W…w-what’s happening…?” the angel forced quietly.

“I’m— I’m not sure,” Castiel admitted.

He stowed the angel blade and climbed over the tree to kneel beside the angel.  His eyes swept down the angel’s body, taking into account the numerous lacerations clotted with dark red blood and black tar, the stained wings bent well out of shape, patches of exposed muscle… And Castiel couldn’t help but wonder why the angel’s grace wasn’t healing him.  Castiel shifted and reached out to touch his fingers to the angel’s forehead, to transfer his own grace and heal him.

“Don’t.”

Castiel stopped, drawing back slightly and whipping his head around.  Someone sat on the fallen tree, someone not like them.  He had no wings, no halo, no grace, not even a sense of— _life_.  The same chilly feeling from before crawled through Castiel again.  Dead; this…being was dead, yet sitting there, watching him.  Castiel straightened up, eyes flicking to the angel quickly before staring at this thing again.

“Do not heal that angel,” the being said, “You’ll only mess things up.”

“What do you mean?” Castiel asked slowly, “Who are you?”

“You’ve yet to give me a name, but you will soon, since you’re all so fond of naming things,” the being replied, “And I mean, you will ruin your ‘father’s plan’ if you save that angel.”

“Father’s plan…he wants these angels to die?”

“You’re not terribly quick, are you?”

Castiel narrowed his eyes.

“Your father can make all the plans he wants, but in the end, I am the one who makes the decisions.”

“Are you claiming to be superior to our Father?” Castiel growled.

“I am.  I am both claiming and stating that I am.”

“Who are you?” Castiel repeated.

“It seems one of your elder brothers, Michael, has decided to name me Death…” Death mused.

Castiel suppressed the shiver that tried to run down his spine.

“Now, as for the angel…unfortunately, he must die.”

“Why?” Castiel snapped.

“There are things in motion which you cannot comprehend and things your father has no control over.  Left alone, things will carry on just fine.  The way they are intended.  But if you decide to muddle in my affairs, such as saving one scripted to die, you will ruin things.”

Death stood from the tree; he was bony and pale, clad in only black robes.  He walked, practically glided, over to Castiel and the dying angel.  Death flashed a silent warning at him to back away and, without thinking, Castiel did just that.  He moved far away enough to stay out of the burst of the angel’s grace, but kept his eyes fixed on them both.  Death knelt down beside the angel, who tried in vain to scramble away, and spoke something quietly to him that seemed to put the angel at ease.  Death then reached out his hand and covered the angel’s eyes. 

The angel’s grace bleed from his body, swirling and sparkling around him until it began to spark and little flames flickered.  Then all of a sudden, the grace combusted in a brilliant flash of light, audibly scarring the angel’s wings into the ground.  Between Death touching the angel and the brightness fading away, no more than a few seconds had passed.  The light faded away completely, leaving bits of ash and tiny embers to drift down around the now dead angel; Death was gone.

Castiel twisted around, searching everywhere for signs of Death, but he didn’t see anything.  It was only him and the corpse of an angel.  He bit his lip nervously, suddenly no longer wanting to be there, and immediately took off for the rendezvous.  If there were any more angels out there, he was sure they knew where to go; assuming they weren’t apart of whatever plans Death was taking about.

The further Castiel flew from that place, the more he became aware of a pressing urgency in his mind.  Someone was trying to find him, trying desperately.  He tried to respond, in kind, to let them that he was alright and would soon be at the rendezvous.  He tried to reply, but for some reason, getting any kind of thought or feeling through the connection was like trying to swim through leviathan tar, or so he assumed.  A short distance further and all of a sudden, the connection became crystal clear and a sharp cry filled his mind, making his heart drop to his stomach.  It pierced through his mind again, this time making him falter a bit.

_‘Cas!’_

 Dean was in a panic trying to find him or even get a hold of him.  Now it was Cas’ turn to desperately reach out.  When he did, it felt like his mind was seized by the seraph.  A fraction of a second later, that feeling became completely physical as Dean came out of nowhere and all but tackled him to the ground.

“Dean, what—“

“Don’t do that again.”

“Alright,” Castiel immediately complied, “Um, for clarification, what should I not do?”

“Disappear like that,” Dean said, “You were just…gone.  I didn’t know what happened, but then this thing, I don’t know what he was, said the ones who disappeared from it were dead.”

“…Death?”

“You know him?”

“Yes, sort of.  He spoke to me—“

Dean cut him off by throwing his arms around him and squeezing him tightly.  Ordinarily, Castiel might’ve complained that Dean was crushing him, but he could feel all the concern and fear coursing through Dean.  Without thought or hesitation, Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean in an attempt to soothe him.

“Archangels and seraphim are the only ones who even know he exists right now,” Dean murmured.

“What?  Then what do the other angels think happened to our brethren?”

Dean loosened his hold on him, sitting back but keep his hands on Castiel’s shoulders.

“They know some are dead, thanks to _someone_ spreading the new concept,” Dean tried to tease, “Michael tried to explain it to everyone, but…it didn’t go so well.  Especially when Lucifer started arguing with him about it.  Death was never mentioned, luckily.”

“Why is that a good thing?  Shouldn’t everyone know?”

“They should,” Dean agreed, “But now isn’t the best time to tell everyone there’s something out there that can kill us with a single touch.”

Castiel hummed, supposing Dean was right.  That was probably Michael’s point too.  Images and distant echoes of Michael and Lucifer arguing flitted through Castiel’s mind.  He could see it was taking a considerable amount of self-restraint on both archangels’ part not to start an outright brawl on the spot.  Their argument was quickly contained to heated glares, both keeping their words and thoughts to each other and hidden from the connection.  It was with stiff movements and warning glares they’d settled and forcefully changed the topic. 

Dean stood up, offering a hand to Castiel.  He accepted it and let Dean haul him back to his feet, though he dusted himself off.  Castiel didn’t miss the mix of disappointment and annoyance that flashed across Dean’s face before his usual relaxed and happy expression.  He gave Castiel a pat on the shoulder, letting his hand slide down his arm and loosely grasp at Castiel’s fingers a moment before falling away.  The gesture had momentarily stunned Castiel until Dean smirked at him and turned to take off.  Castiel followed suit, keeping as close to Dean as possible. 

As they flew, Castiel came to realize he’d missed the rendezvous all together.  Images and echoes of it continued to flit through his mind, filling him in on what he’d missed; which wasn’t much.  Apart from Michael and Lucifer arguing, only two things really happened.  One was simply a roll call of sorts, to see how many angels had managed to escape death.  The other was Michael and Dean stepping aside to allow Lucifer and Sam to extinguish a part of the holy fire they’d created to reveal the land they’d all fought so hard to protect.

The blaze of holy fire soon came into view.  The flames still towered just as high as before, but they crackled and danced more relaxed now.  They moved softly, filling everything for miles with a pleasant warmth rather than the raging heat from before.  Castiel followed Dean as they circled around the ring of fire to the missing portion.  Both of them settled on the ground and simply walked up to the missing portion, which served as a gate of sorts; it was much easier to enter the ring of fire this way than to try to fly high enough above the flames to avoid being burned.

The gate was not unguarded though, as several small leviathans still lingered about the earth.  But, because only small leviathans remained, not even enough to compile into fearsome monster, only one angel stood guard.  He tilted his head at Castiel, obviously not having seen him before, but he didn’t question him.  How could he when he was with a seraph?  The angel, _Gadreel_ , bowed his head in respect to Dean as he stepped aside to let the both of them in.

Castiel found himself marveling at what had survived the leviathans’ rampage.  Not only did it survive, it had flourished.  Every single plant was brighter and healthier than Castiel had seen, he could feel the life thrumming through every fiber of every plant.  And, despite the on-going holy fire surrounding them, the air was filled with a calming sweetness.  Everything about this place had just a _sacred_ feeling to it.  It was beautiful, peaceful, safe, a haven… A _garden_.        

Castiel stepped forward, taking in more of the vibrant hues of flowers, soft greens of trees and grass.  Angels were scattered throughout, laying peacefully around the garden, basking in the warmth of the fire that protected it.  Some of them rose up to the colorful objects hanging from trees and plucking them, inspecting them carefully and curiously.  Sparkling streams of water meandered through the garden, occasionally giving off odd reflections that piqued Castiel’s curiosity.  He swiftly walked over to the nearest stream and kneeled down to inspect it, finding found small creatures swimming through it and occasionally rising to the surface and splashing.  _Fish_ , Castiel remembered.  _Trout_ , his mind specified.

Another movement caught his attention, just across the stream.  A tiny green creature clung to a branch, not moving a muscle once it realized Castiel had noticed it.  It just stared at him with wide, amber eyes.  _Lizard._   _Gecko._ Castiel cocked his head at the creature, knitting his brows together in curiosity and confusion.  He turned to ask Dean a question, but found the seraph was no longer right behind him.  Instead, he’d moved down the stream to the top of a hill just a short ways and was holding his hand out to another, much bigger creature. 

Castiel stood up and went over to him, slowing his movements considerably when Dean glanced over his shoulder at him with a look that said to do so.  The creature had tawny colored… _fur_ , extremely similar in color to Dean’s hair, thin black marks on its face, long horns that looked a bit too big for its narrow body. _Deer._   _Impala._ Dean gently stroked the side of its face and neck, acting around the impala’s movements to let it continue doing as it pleased.  Castiel paused a few steps away, unsure of how close he could get without startling it.  Dean noticed and extended one of his wings out and behind Castiel, drawing him in with it.  He gave Castiel an encouraging nod towards the impala and Castiel reached his hand out as Dean had done.

The impala eyed Castiel suspiciously before raising its head back and sniffing at his hand.  It perked its ears up, twisting and bolting away in long, graceful bounds.  Castiel didn’t hide the hurt look on his face as he watched it bounded down the hill, nor did he hide his frustration when he heard Dean laughing.  He turned to glare at Dean, only to have him cup his chin and turn his head back to where the impala had gone.  There was an entire group of them down below, all milling about the tall grass and along the stream.  They weren’t alone either; other creatures vaguely similar to them mingled about with them, some venturing over to trees and taking colorful objects from low laying branches.  Every once in a while, when one did take an object, _fruit_ , the movement of branches would disturb something in the trees and creatures possessing wings like the angels’ would take off from the trees with chirps of annoyance.  _Birds._

Castiel felt his jaw go slack as his gaze swept across the vast stretch of land, seeing creatures, _animals_ , pop in and out of sight.  There wasn’t a huge variety of them, mostly birds, lizards, fish and deer.  For now, anyways, something told him.  But still, there was a sense of awe to see life other than angels roaming about this beautiful place. 

“Welcome to the Garden of Eden, Cas,” Dean grinned.

                 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry it took this long _again_ ;A; i just got kinda distracted with [Dire](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1924422/chapters/4153644) because that's getting more attention *coughcommentsandkudoscough* and this one doesn't seem to get as much. so comments will help me update faster _hint hint_ btw, to spark some interest in y'all...there's smut in the next chapter.


	6. The Sixth Day: Man

Gabriel had brought his army to Earth to relieve one of the three others.  There were still lingering leviathans and, though they were much less fearsome, they were still to be reckoned with and the angels were in need of a reprieve and restored numbers.  Gabriel had offered for Michael to take his army home for rest, allowing any angels who wished to stay to stay as civilians.  But Michael had declined.  He then offered Lucifer the same, but likewise, Lucifer had declined.  So, it was Raphael who had taken the relief.

Gabriel didn’t even need to ask why they both turned down the offer.  He knew they refused because they didn’t want to leave the other unchecked.  Their arguments and fighting had been getting worse, especially since yesterday.  Lucifer was still furious their Father would do something like that and questioning, demanding Michael explain what reasoning was behind that.  Michael refused, saying only that it was part of Father’s plan.  That, of course, had led to another fight.  However, this time they had enough decency to leave Earth; it was battle scarred enough.  They’d only gotten as far as the moon before they were at each other’s throats, roaring and shouting arguments as they slammed each other into the moon’s soft white sands.

Their fight was more than visible to any of the angels on Earth and Gabriel had quickly brought on a heavy layer of storm clouds to block the view.  The rolling thunder, rain and occasional crack of lighting did their part to drown out what little sound made its way to Earth.  He’d even gone so far as to interfere with the angels’ connections to block the anger and frustration Michael and Lucifer were radiating.  As far as any angel knew, so long as they didn’t leave, Michael and Lucifer were simply having another one of their usual, tense conversations.

Both Dean and Sam were aware of the fight going on, but had both agreed to ignore it.  They’d tried reasoning and placating the archangels, but that was always only ever a band-aid on the situation.  Both seraphim had decided to just let the archangels fight it out and only intervene if it became dire. 

Castiel found Dean sitting beneath a tree that shielded both him and the animals he was idly playing with from the rain.  They were fuzzy, little brown creatures with black and white stripes down their backs.  _Chipmunks._ Castiel had seen a couple for a brief moment before, not long enough to learn their names until now.  But he tilted his head curiously at them as he approached; only one chipmunk looked… _normal_ , he supposed the word was.  One was normal, the others were so much smaller with thinner tails and proportionally bigger paws.  And remarkably less coordination, he noted, as they tumbled over each other or tripped over themselves as they tried to catch a feather off one of Dean’s wings.

“They’re pups,” Dean said absently.

Castiel sat down beside Dean and the normal sized chipmunks.  When a pup stumbled over towards Castiel, he promptly folded his wings back from the tiny creature, earning its curiosity.  It sniffed at his leg before cautiously crawling back towards his wings.  He scooped the pup up in one hand and moved it back closer to others.  It squeaked in protest and tried to go for Castiel again, only to be moved back again.  It started towards him once more, but the normal sized chipmunk gave a short chirp and the pup went back to playing with the others.

“Why are they so small?” Castiel asked.

“Because they’re pups,” Dean laughed dryly.

Castiel scowled at him.

“Well, that’s why,” Dean shrugged, “They’re…babies.  Just tiny things that just started living.”

“’Just started’?  Were they not created with the other animals?”

“Nope.  These ones were, uh…’born’ a couple days ago.  Earth’s days, not ours, obviously.”

Castiel watched a pup crouch low to the ground, wiggling its bottom right before it jumped up to snap at Dean’s wing; only to have the seraph pull his wing away at the last second.

“They seem much more playful than this one,” Castiel noted.

“A lot,” Dean smirked.

“…Does this bother you?”

“No, I think it’s fun.”

“No, I mean— Michael and Lucifer, does their fighting bother you?”

“How’d you know they were fighting?  Thought Gabriel was supposed to cover that up.”

“He did, but I was flying a little higher than his cover,” Castiel answered, “And that doesn’t answer my question.”

“Kind of,” Dean admitted, “Why?”

“You just seem less enthusiastic than normal and that seems to be the only thing that could cause it.”

“They’ve been fighting almost all week,” Dean said, “Me and Sam try to stop them, but they just keep getting worse.  Gabriel told us to just let them have it out for a while.”

“Well, all the better.  Especially for you,” Castiel tried comforting, “It gives you more time to relax and enjoy Eden.”

“Yeah, I guess it does,” Dean hummed with a half-smile.

Then there was a dull thud that weakly rumbled through the ground.  The pups all squealed in panic before being rounded up by their mother and ushered up the tree.  Castiel and Dean watched them scurry up into the leaves before glancing at each other and then in the direction the noise had come from.  They got up and drifted towards it, coming the edge of a steep hill that led down into a fog created by the rain and holy fire.

The lowland fog drifted about slowly, seemingly not at all.  It gave this part of the garden an unnerving sense, one that kept the animals away from it.  Despite that, Dean ventured a few steps closer.  He couldn’t shake the feeling there was something lurking in the fog.  He didn’t think it was anything dangerous, per se; Gadreel and the other angels assigned to the entrance should be doing their job.  But it was definitely something different that didn’t fit in.

Castiel moved stiffly up beside him; he could sense the anomaly too.  A patch of fog stirred faintly, but it was enough to stand out in this stillness.  Both of them snapped their heads in its direction, tensing and flaring their wings.  The fog shifted and danced as something moved beneath it, then something clicked in Dean’s mind.  He relaxed and put his arm in front of Castiel, signaling for him to relax as well.  He stared at Dean in confusion, but did as he signaled.

Dean walked down the hill into the thick of the fog.  Castiel watched as it rose up to his waist, curling around him and lazily caressing him as he moved through it.  The disturbed patch of fog continued to move differently than the rest.  It moved more frantically when whatever was beneath it realized Dean was approaching.  Strange, distressed noises floated up through the fog as Dean came to stand beside it.  Tilting his head to the side in curiosity, Dean gently beat one pair of wings, effectively clearing the immediate space of fog.

The creature disturbing the fog immediately froze, staring up at Dean in terror.  Dean only squinted his eyes and tilted his head to the otherside and he kneeled down in front of it.  He studied the creature closer, frightening it into scrambling back a few inches.  It had pale, now dirtied, skin, mussed golden hair and light blue eyes that bordered on translucent.  It looked like an angel in their typical compressed forms, though it lacked wings and any presence of grace. 

But it did have something in place of grace, something that burned brighter and more pure.  Something that held unknown, immense power.  _Soul._   Dean’s eyes widened at the realization of what this creature was.  It was God’s ultimate creature.  The thing he’d created everything else for.  It was a _human_.  Dean leaned forward slowly, as not to frighten the human more, and offered his hand.  The human’s eyes darted between Dean’s face and his hand, then down at his own body.  The human slowly made the connection and tentatively reached out to accept Dean’s offer.  But when Dean started to close his fingers around the human’s hand, the human panicked and retracted his arm, cradling it close and continuing to stare at Dean in fear. 

Dean watched the way the human’s eyes moved, seeing things all around him that none of the animals could see.  The human could see his trueform, though not the swordform Michael had used him for in the war against the leviathans.  It couldn’t see the genuine awe and concern on Dean’s face, his compressed form’s face.  It could only see the vivid green light glowing from dark sockets, the skeletal mouth, sharp angled body, frayed and sharp tawny wings… This human could see the true essence and grace of an angel that shouldn’t have been visible, no doubt thanks to the soul it possessed, and it was _afraid._  

Dean pulled back his own arm and did his best to draw himself in, to make himself look less intimidating.

“Don’t—“ Dean started.

The human flinched at his rumbling voice, scrambling uncoordinatedly back and trying to shield itself.  The human could hear his true voice too.  Dean scowled internally and took a deep breath.

“Don’t be afraid,” Dean said in the softest voice he could managed.

“Wh-what are y-you?” the human struggled.

“I’m an angel,” Dean replied, “I’m here to protect you.”

“’Pro-tect’?” the human repeated.

Dean nodded and was about to explain what that word meant, but the human interrupted him.

“Protect…me?  From what?” the human asked.

“From anything,” Dean replied simply, “Anything that scares you or would hurt you.”

“What if…you scare me?” the human asked cautiously.

“I don’t, um…”

Dean frowned.  He had the feeling the human would always be afraid of the trueform it could see surrounding what was actually kneeled in front of it.  He would have to make the human see his other self.  Dean shifted, spooking the human, and moved to point at himself.  He knew the image of his trueform was copying him, so he moved to make the trueform point to the compressed form.

“Look here,” Dean instructed.

The human knitted his brows together in confusion, its eyes flicking between Dean’s face and where his clawed hand was pointing, somewhere around the trueform’s knee.

“Focus as much as you can.”

“What am I looking for?”

“Me.”

“But I already see you,” the human murmured.

“I know.  But there’s a, uh…another me.  One that won’t frighten you.  Just focus where I’m pointing.”

The human bit its lip and shifted, trying to focus where Dean had said.  He failed several times, being frightened by even the slightest movement Dean made.  But Dean kept his patience and doubled his efforts to keep stock-still.  Concentration was all over the human’s face and deep in its features and Dean probably would’ve laughed if it wouldn’t scare the human.  But when the fear and concentration started to lighten into curiosity and confusion, he did allow himself a smile.  The human’s mouth fell open in lack of understanding how the terrifying creature before him had disappeared and turned into this other creature that looked similar to itself, sans wings and clothing.

“Are you still scared?”

The human slowly shook his head.

“Good.”

Dean offered his hand again.  The human reached for it once more, this time not even twitching as Dean’s fingers closed around his hand.  He helped the human stand on unsteady legs, holding out his other arm for the human to use as extra leverage.  When it was stable, it let go of Dean and stepped back.

“You’re an angel…” it said, “Do you have a name?”

“Dean.”

He nodded.

“My name is Adam,” Adam stated.

“Come with me.”

Adam started to walk, only to stumble over divets hidden by the low-lying fog.  He quickly reached out and latched onto Dean again.  Dean hid the small smile playing at his lips and helped lead Adam up the hill.

Any questions Castiel had were quickly filled in by Dean announcing through the connection that he’d found their Father’s newest creation.  Michael was the first to respond and appear.  He’d come so swiftly that he’d gotten there in literally the blink of an eye.  His sudden appearance startled Adam and cowered and clung to Dean, the fear in him making the illusion of Michael’s trueform visible.  Dean shook him to get his attention back and calm him down, pointing to Michael’s compressed form and telling him to relax and focus again.  It took a little longer, given Michael’s trueform was far more terrifying than Dean’s, but eventually the illusion faded away.

“I’m Michael,” Michael introduced, “I apologize I was not there when you were created.  I was…otherwise preoccupied.”

Michael held out his hand to Adam.  He knew he was supposed to go with Michael, but he was still a little weary of the archangel.  He looked up to Dean for reassurance.

“It’s alright, Michael’ll keep you safe too,” Dean said, “We all will.”

Adam nodded slowly and let go of Dean, then accepting Michael’s hand.  The archangel was relieved that was all the more convincing it took, though he was mildly annoyed that had been necessary at all.  He gathered Adam up in his arms, reassuring him and telling him that he was just going to take him to the center of the garden.

Michael flew slow and steady, so as not to startle Adam again; Dean and Castiel kept behind him.  Almost the entire Host had already gathered at the center of the garden, anticipating the newest creature.  There was an excited buzz humming throughout the angels as they saw Michael approaching with Adam.  He landed in a soft gust of wind, kicking up a few leaves and blades of grass, and set Adam down and straightened up.

“As you all already know,” Michael started, “Father has created another life.  Though this one is different.  He is not any kind of flora or fauna you have seen before.  He was created with a special purpose.”

All the angels fell silent, listening intently to Michael.

“He was created in Father’s likeness and made to rule over the earth as God rules over Heaven.  For that, we are to worship and revere him just as we would Father.”

Michael’s eyes swept over the crowd of angels.  Lucifer was yet to be seen.  Michael scowled inwardly and continued speaking.

“Alongside him, there will be another.  She, too, will be treated the same.  We are here to serve and protect them.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Michael saw Lucifer approaching with ‘the other’.  Lucifer landed roughly beside him, setting the other human down and receiving a ‘thank you’ from her.  She stood to face Adam and smiled sweetly at him, dipping her head slightly and letting golden curls fall over her shoulders and hide her face.  Without thinking, Adam walked up to her and brushed her hair aside, then cupped his hand under her chin and lifted her head.  He couldn’t help but stare into her eyes and forget that there was anyone else around them.  Michael continued talking about…something, but he didn’t hear the archangel.  The only thing he picked up on was that this woman’s name was Lilith.

He let his hand drop down to hers, netting his fingers with hers and tugged her closer.  She complied with a brighter smile and stood up on her tip-toes to press a kiss to his lips.  He was completely stunned by it, but quickly melted into it.  They ignored the cheers and light hearted comments of the angels and locked arms together.

“Would you…like to explore this place?” Adam asked, “I mean, if we’re supposed to rule it—“

“Yes, I’d love to,” Lilith replied.

Adam smiled breathlessly and looked out over the garden.  He had no idea where to start and chose a random direction.  They’d have plenty of time to see it all. 

Most of the angels dispersed, going back to what they’d been doing before.  But a handful of them followed Adam and Lilith, curious to see what it was they would do.  However, their curiosity over the humans was quickly sated as all Adam and Lilith did was explore and figure out what things were; much like the angels had done.  The angels didn’t stick around long enough to watch their behavior with each other, they only checked on them once in a little while. 

But that was for the better, it granted them privacy as the bond between them began to flourish.  After a couple sunsets and sunrises, they’d taken to exploring each other almost as much as Eden.  And while Adam had taken the lead on exploring Eden, Lilith had the lead on exploring each other.  She was often the first one to press him up against a nearby rock or tree, or pull him down onto the grass or sandy banks.  Not that Adam would complain.  He loved the things she did and was more than happy to let her have the control. 

Of course, it was only a matter of time before an angel happened to see them like that.  There was no shame or repulsion in it, there was nothing to be ashamed of or repulsed by.  There was just confusion and curiosity in the angel, who just so happened to be Dean. 

Rather than speak up and interrupt, Dean stayed back and watched, thinking he’d get answers as to what they were doing.  He watched the way Lilith playfully pushed Adam to the ground and kissed along his jaw, down his neck and chest.  He watched her reached between their legs, though Dean couldn’t see what it was she was doing exactly.  But that was immediately followed by her sinking down on a part of Adam that hadn’t been erect like that before.  If anything, Dean was now more confused as she repeatedly lifted herself up and dropped back down on him.  The loud moans coming from the both of them had Dean shifting restlessly, but he kept watching until their bodies seized and Lilith all but fell on top of Adam.  They were breathless, but whispered and giggled together until they fell asleep together.  Meanwhile, Dean felt agitated, twitchy and, to be honest, bothered by _something_.

He didn’t have anything else to be doing at the moment and decided to fight against the restless feelings and wait until they woke up.  He just really needed to know what it was they were doing.  When the sun rose again, Adam and Lilith woke up again.  They mumbled to each other and lazily kissed until Adam pushed himself up, stretching his arms and saying something about going for a little walk.  He offered Lilith to come with, but she declined in favor of laying there a little while longer.  He gave her another quick kiss before walking off.  This was Dean’s chance to ask what they’d done.  He made himself known by gliding down to the small clearing Lilith was still in. 

Seeing him, Lilith sat up and picked a few blades of grass from her hair. 

“Lilith, can I ask you something?” Dean asked.

“Of course,” Lilith smiled.

They hadn’t been formally introduced, but neither of them bothered with it.  Lilith had heard of Dean and obviously Dean knew who she was.

“What….what were you and Adam doing?” Dean asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Earlier, when you were on top of him.”

“Oh, that?  That’s…” Lilith thought for a moment, “Making love.”

“’Making love’?” Dean repeated.

“Yes.  Do angels not do that?”

Dean shook his head.

“Really?” Lilith asked.

He shook his head again.

“How do you express your love then?”

“We…don’t, I guess,” Dean mumbled, “I’m not even sure what ‘love’ is.”

She thought it was strange that angels didn’t know what love is, but then thought that maybe someone just had to tell them.  She had noted a few things angels didn’t seem to understand while watching them and all the animals.

“Well, I’m not sure how to explain it.  But I can try,” Lilith offered, “Love is…when you feel drawn to someone.  You want to spend all your time with them, you think about what they do, care about what they do and how they feel.”

Dean settled down on the grass, listening intently to her.

“You want to be as close as possible to them and when you are, you can feel this heat inside you.  One that pushes you to get even closer, one that makes you want to…become something else with them.  It leads you to find a way to become one and that heat keeps building until its forged you together,” Lilith continued, “And when you’re one, when you’re making love, it’s like…nothing else exists.  And it’s pure— _ecstasy._   Like nothing you’ve ever felt before.”

“If it’s so amazing, why don’t you stay that way?”

“Because it’s too much.  We weren’t made to handle such feeling for so long, even just a few minutes leaves us exhausted and breathless,” Lilith answered, “But the feeling of bliss afterwards is just as wonderful and it lasts so much longer.  It lasts until we ready to be one again.”

“How do you know when you’re ready?”

“It’s that heat.  Whenever we’re ready, it’s always there.  Like a sudden burst of fire from the heart to below.”

Dean had felt that before, at least, a brief shock of it, when he’d kept Castiel’s feathers hidden.  Maybe he’d wanted to do that, to make love to Castiel.  Just the idea of it sent a tingling feeling throughout his body.  Lilith tilted her, watching Dean with curiosity. 

“Is there someone you love?” Lilith asked.

“I…think so.” 

“You should tell them.  Maybe they feel the same,” Lilith said.

“I think I will,” Dean mused, “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Lilith smiled.

Dean pushed himself up and took off, soaring through the air.  He glanced around as he reached into the angel connection to find Castiel faster.  He was up on a hill, overlooking a grassy field filled with a herd of bovine.  Dean banked to the side, changing course and flying for the hill.  From above, Dean could see him sitting on a rock at the tree line of the orchard on the hill.

Dean watched Castiel, feeling the want to be close return.  The feeling itself wasn’t new, but now that it had a name, it felt stronger than before.  He could feel warmth spreading through his body, though not the burst of fire Lilith had mentioned.  He wondered if Castiel had ever felt that and there was one way to find out.  He landed almost immediately and found himself moving towards Castiel without any thought of what he was doing.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel greeted.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean breathed.

Suddenly, the warmth he’d felt before was retreating to his core, leaving behind a coldness that tried to shake him.  _Nervous._   He took a deep breath, trying to chase the feeling away.

“Is something wrong?” Castiel asked.

“No, I, uh…” Dean cleared his throat, “I was just talking to Lilith and it got me thinking….”

“About what?”

“Do you, um, do you ever feel a weird kind of warmth?”

“What do you mean?” Castiel squinted.

Dean didn’t know how to explain it and the nervousness was beginning to overwhelm him.  The fastest way to convey what he meant was to flood the angel connection between just the two of them.  Dean’s feelings and Lilith’s explanation poured over to Castiel, managing to speak what Dean couldn’t.  Castiel’s eyes widened as he tucked his wings close behind his back.  The new expression on Dean’s face, _anxious_ , prompted him to respond.

“Yes…I have felt that,” Castiel admitted, “I’ve felt that since we saw those auras together a few days ago.”

“You have?”

Castiel nodded.

Then there was a spark in Dean.  He could feel the warmth returning, now even stronger.  It pushed him to move closer to Castiel and he complied.  He wrapped his arms tightly around Castiel, but it wasn’t enough.  He moved his head back just enough to touch his forehead against Castiel’s, hesitating for someone unknown reason.  Then it was Castiel moving.  His hands cupped either side of Dean’s face and held him while Castiel closed what little space there was between their faces.  His lips pressed against Dean’s, igniting the fire Lilith had mentioned.  Out of sudden fear, they pulled back for a moment.  Both with wide eyes searching the other’s face.  Then not a beat later, they were kissing again.  They kissed more desperately as the fire built up inside them, slowly burning away the world around them as Dean crowded him back against a tree.

Dean was the first to make the next move.  As much as he hated it, he pulled away from Castiel and tore at the golden ropes binding his robes.  Castiel quickly followed suit and took it a step further, shoving at Dean’s robes until they were caught only by his wings.  Dean pulled Castiel’s clothing off and his kisses began moving away from Castiel’s mouth.  He kissed along his jaw, down his neck and chest, each one becoming more needy. 

Because the way they manifested on Earth was so similar to a human, their bodies reacted the same way as a human’s; the same way Adam’s did, since they’d both elected to manifest as male.

Dean’s heated breath ghosted over Castiel’s hardened cock just before he took it in his mouth.  He didn’t know why he did that, and he doubted he ever would, but he couldn’t care less.  Castiel fisted his hands in Dean’s hair, keeping him grounded there while he desperately tried to control his breathing.  The task was made more difficult when Dean bobbed his head lower, taking in more of Castiel’s length.  He moved his head up and down, tongue sliding all around Castiel’s cock. He lifted his head until only the tip was in his mouth and flicked his tongue over the slit, drawing out moans and whimpers from Castiel that only fed his fire.

Dean wanted more, he _needed_ more.  He kissed his way back up to Castiel’s lips while he hands searched for a way to sate his need.  His fingers drifted below Castiel’s cock, pressing on a particularly sensitive spot the forced a whine from the other angel.  It sounded wonderful, but it wasn’t enough; it wasn’t what he was looking for.  Drifting lower still, he found a tiny spot of give between Castiel’s cheeks.  He pressed one finger in, testing him, and was rewarded with Castiel digging his fingers into his shoulders and another spark of fire.  He worked another finger in and pumped and crooked both of them inside Castiel.

The stretch burned, even hurt, but Castiel’s grace was quick enough to relieve the pain and leave only pleasure.  When he couldn’t stand it anymore, he wrapped his legs around Dean’s waist and dug his heels into his lower back.  Dean scowled at him, but removed his fingers and used that hand to help support Castiel.  He shifted his stance, giving short, twitching thrusts of his hips until his cock found Castiel’s hole.  He pressed in, the air being punched from his lungs at the tight heat, and gripped Castiel’s hips so hard there were sure to be marks later. 

Castiel, likewise, was finding it hard to breathe.  Both of them abandoned kissing, but kept their faces together, stealing each other’s hot breath.  Dean lifted Castiel as he pulled out, then dropped him back down as he thrust up, forcing a high moan from Castiel.  The noise was delightful and drove Dean to do it again, this time with a little more force; this time a groan falling from Castiel’s lips.  Dean started up a steady rhythm, occasionally changing his angle, until he managed to strike a spot that nearly made Castiel wail.  He continued at that angle and caused more whines and whimpers to spill from Castiel.

He could feel the fire in his stomach building, becoming all-consuming and spurring him to thrust faster.  Castiel couldn’t hold on tight enough, moving one hand from Dean’s shoulder to one of his wings for a better grip.  His entire body felt like magma until it was absolutely unbearable and it spurted violently from his cock, splattering up both of their torsos.  Castiel’s body clenched around Dean, as if begging him to stop now.  Dean gave a few more hard, erratic thrusts before he was spilling into Castiel. 

The world was quick to return with a cooling breeze, bringing them down from their high.  Dean trembled, losing the strength to keep them both up, and lowered Castiel to the ground.  He gingerly pulled out of Castiel and collapsed on the ground beside him.  Castiel squirmed with the feeling of Dean’s release dripping out of him.  But neither of them had felt more at peace with everything than at this moment.  Castiel rolled onto his side and inched closer to Dean, drawing one of his wings up to cover them.  Dean did the same, moving his three to slide around Castiel’s and shield them more from the breeze that tried to sober them up.

“I love you,” Dean murmured.

“I love you, too,” Castiel whispered.

Castiel nuzzled Dean’s neck, listening to his now even breathing that indicated he was sleeping; Castiel quickly drifted off behind him.

Across the garden, Lucifer paused and stared off in the distance.  There had been a faint burst of light that radiated traces of grace and he had no idea was it was.  Nothing had preceded it and nothing followed it.  The only change he could sense was new growth in the area.  He shrugged it off, thinking it wasn’t important enough for investigation at the moment.  Right now, he wanted to talk to Lilith.  He found her with a small herd of deer, affectionately petting a young fawn.

The deer perked up at his approach and the fawn moved away from Lilith to rejoin its mother.  Lilith sighed and frowned slightly, but smiled with she turned and saw Lucifer.

“Hello, Lucifer,” Lilith said.

“Hello yourself.  Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt…” Lucifer made a vague motion at the deer.

“Oh no, it’s alright.  They usually don’t stick around long anyway,” Lilith hummed, “Is there something you need?”

“Actually, yes.  There’s something I’d like to ask you about.”

“You angels are rather curious today,” Lilith laughed.

Lucifer tilted his head, but then shook it.  Whatever it was, it wasn’t of any importance.

“Are you happy with your life?” Lucifer asked.

“I am, very,” Lilith smiled, “Why do you ask?”

“Because I would think you could be happier.”

“How?”

“By becoming what you’re capable of.”

Lilith tilted her head to the side.

“You focus on so little of what you are,” Lucifer started, “There’s much more to humans than you know.”

“But you’re an angel.  How do you know more about what I am than I do?”

“Because God is my father.  And he’s told me what humans can do,” Lucifer replied, “You could be the most powerful creatures on Earth.”

“But—“

“If you’re going to _inherit_ the Earth, as God says, you must be able to protect it.  To protect it, you need power.”

“And you can give us that power?”

“Give?  No, it’s already inside you.  But I can show you how to harness it,” Lucifer offered, “Come with me, if you’d like.”

Lilith hesitated a moment, unsure of whether or not this was something she should do.  But Lucifer was an angel, an archangel no less, and he spoke directly with God.  He was just offering her a way to be all she could be.  She took a deep breath and smiled, nodding her head.  A smile broke across Lucifer’s face, one that would later be described as predatory.  He held out his hand for her and she took it, willingly following him to wherever he led her.

She followed him for hours; a lengthy time to her, but hardly more than a few seconds to Lucifer.  He led her out of Eden, earning a curious look from Gadreel at the fiery gates.  Lucifer offered him a calming smile and reassurance through their connection; Gadreel thought nothing more of it.  Being the first time out of the garden, Lilith nervously clung to Lucifer.  The Earth had repaired itself considerably since the war against leviathans, but it was still in ruins.  Everything was a gnarled mess of decaying life trying to strangle the weak, new life trying to spring up. 

“W-what happened here?” Lilith whimpered, “Why does it look…like this?”

Lucifer swallowed down the smile that tugged at his lips upon hearing the fear creeping into her voice.  That was exactly what he wanted.

“Because of monsters,” Lucifer replied simply, “Things such as them are what you need to be able to protect the earth from.”

“What happened to them?”

“We were barely able to subdue them.  They’re locked away under the ocean, while Michael devises some way to get rid of them,” Lucifer grumbled, “Well, most of them are locked away.  There’s a few small ones lurking about.”

“I-if _you_ were barely able to stop them, then how can we?”

“Because I told you, you could be the most powerful creatures on earth.”

Lilith opened her mouth to ask another question, but was cut off by a blast of wind and rush of feathers.  She shielded her face from the debris the wind kicked up and when the wind and debris settled, she lowered her arms; Lucifer was gone.  She felt a strange feeling twisting in her stomach as she took a step back, folding her arms to her chest.

“L-Lucifer?  Where are you?”

There was no answer.  She took a few more steps back, beginning to look around frantically for any sign of the archangel.  She heard a twig crack and snapped her head in its direction, only to find nothing more than a handful of dancing leaves.  Lilith hunched down, lowering herself to the ground and scooting back up against a tree and drawing her knees up.

“Lucifer?” Lilith called again.

Still nothing.  The forestry around her seemed to close in on her as it grew taller and darker.  She thought she could hear something moving around her, but it was hard to tell over the blood rushing in her ears and now pounding heart. 

“Lucifer!”

The bushes shuddered and spooked her into getting up.  Whatever it was, it wasn’t Lucifer.  She held her hands together to her chest and began walking.  She became more and more aware of every little thing around her, each noise unnerving her more until she started running.  It may have been herself scaring her, snapping all the twigs and branches, but she didn’t like it and was more than grateful by the time she reached the edge of the forest and stumbled onto patchy, dry grass. 

She stopped and looked around; this land was even more ruined than the forest and flanked by a black sea.  It was scorched and gouged, telling of some massive war she’d never be able to comprehend.  She started forward timidly, trying to keep on what little grass had sprouted up and subsequently died.  It felt unpleasant on her feet, but it was surely better than the sharp, broken ground.  At the sound of rocks shifting, she snapped her head to the side and saw the back of animals just over a deep scar in the ground.  She crept over to the scar, trying not to disturb the rocks and settled on the edge, looking down at the animals.

They had large upper bodies held up by legs than seemed to thin; and too short in the back.  Their fur was stripped and spotted, smooth blackened tails swaying side to side with twitches of short, round ears.  They didn’t look anything like what was in Eden.  One of them flicked its ear and perked its head up, black-faced and a shining, red wetness clinging to its muzzle.  It turned its attention to Lilith, golden eyes focusing in on her.  The others took noticed and likewise turned their attention to her.  When they moved, she could see what had previously had their attention.  It was a mass of carnage; blood staining over the rocks, organs strewn out, flesh falling from the bones as these creatures picked them clean.  And soft ash stretching out from either side of the human-like body.  It was an angel.  One freshly killed by something.

The first creature opened its mouth and made a sound.  Nothing like what the animals in Eden made, but a sound that sounded disturbingly similar to laughter.  _Hyena._ The others joined in with short, manic laughs and started towards Lilith.  As they moved away from the dead angel, a loud caw echoed overhead and a large bird came down with massive wings and feathers as black as night.  It settled beside the angel, tilting its bare head, and began pecking at the remains.

A low growl reminded her of the approaching hyenas and she quickly scrambled back, prompting the animals to move faster up the rocky hill.  She got to her feet and started running again, panic and fear welling up inside her.  She wasn’t going to run back into the forest, but she couldn’t continue the way she’d been going and instead ran along the edge of the trees towards the sea.  Behind her, the hyenas yipped and laughed loudly, gaining ground on her.

“Lucifer, please!” Lilith cried.

Still, the archangel didn’t answer her.  She felt something hot pricking at her eyes, blurring her vision.  She wiped at them, her hands coming away wet.  _Tears._   She could feel her legs beginning to give out beneath her, the hyenas now at her heels.  But just before they had her, they came to a skidding halt, howling and stumbling over each other as they scrambled to turn back.  Lilith collapsed on to the sand of the beach, too relieved they were gone to wonder _why_ they were gone.  She sat shaking on the ground, taking in ragged breaths that burned her lungs as tears ran down her face. 

The waters of the sea lapped at the beach, creating a soothing sound to comfort her.  But the sound gradually faded away and the waters retreated and the ground trembled.  She looked up to see the cause and saw a massive black tendrils breaking the surface of the ocean and rising up.  The tentacles lashed around, throwing the ocean into a frenzy of waves that surged towards the beach.  The water rushed over the sand, quickly swallowing Lilith and throwing her back the way she’d came before suddenly ripping her forward and dragging her into the waters.  Black tentacles came for her, wrapping around her and crushing her as they pulled her under.  Beneath the water, she could just barely make out the beast that was trapped under the water.  Leviathan.

A flash of light pierced through the water, striking the tentacle and making it let go of her.  She swam frantically to the surface and gasped for air.  Another tentacle came for her, but she kicked herself off and away from it.  Fear was still welled up inside her, but it was quickly giving way for overwhelming anger.  The angels had sworn to protect her and they’d tricked her.  She been led from safety and peace, abandoned with her life in danger.  Two tentacles wrapped around her middle again, with a crushing intensity that would leave permanent marks.  But she didn’t feel any pain, the anger coursing through her was too strong.  She suddenly violently clawed at the tentacles and inflicted enough pain for one to recoil for a second.  The anger, she distantly realized, was the power Lucifer had mentioned.  And she was all too accepting of it, letting it take full control and warp her.

Lucifer watched the struggle from a distance.  The one act of freeing Lilith from the initial tentacle was the only act of aid or kindness he was going to give her.  But it was becoming clearer by the second, that was all the aid she’d need.  He sat back, content to watch what would happen now.

 

 

In the garden, oblivious to all that was going on outside, Adam wandered through a prairie in idle search of Lilith.  Sometimes they would wander away from each other and it would take them a short while to find each other again.  But even still, it had never taken this long; the sun had already set and risen since the last time he saw her.  He saw a seraph sitting beside the river and hurried over.  Part of him hoped it was Dean, he had a particular fondness of Dean since he was the one who welcomed him to life.  But the feathers were too dark for Dean’s, though he did recognize them as belonging to Dean’s brother.

“Samuel!” Adam called.

Sam perked and looked over his wings.

“Hey, Adam,” Sam greeted.

“Have you seen Lilith anywhere?”

“Not for a while, why?”

“I can’t find and I’ve been looking all night.”

Sam frowned and used the angel connection to see if anyone had seen her recently, but no one had anything earlier than yesterday.  The best answer he had was that Dean and Lucifer were the last two seen with her.  He tried reaching for Dean, but there was no reaction.  And Lucifer had closed himself off from the connection.  Concern began to rise up in him, but he kept it hidden from Adam.

“Don’t worry, we’ll find her,” Sam forced a smile, “There aren’t too many places she can be.”

“Thank you.”

Sam stood up and dusted himself off as Adam left to continue looking for her.  Sam took off and tried reaching for Dean again.  He only got a read of Dean’s grace, unusually tranquil, somewhere a few miles away in a sparse orchard.  He flew quickly there, looking closely for any sign of his brother.  He got to the orchard, as it apparently was, and landed before he saw Dean.  He’d been here before a few times, but never remembered any flowers being here.  Of course, that could always change quickly here, but there was still something about these particular flowers.

Sam walked through the orchard, eyeing the new flowers curiously.  It had just been grass before, but now there were hundreds of them, in every shade and type, creating a blanket among the trees.  Lush, green ivy crawled out of the flowers and up the trees, wrapping around them gently.  Amidst it all, he could swear he felt small traces of raw grace lazily drifting up from it.  He shook his head to clear the confusion, for the moment, at least.  He had to find Dean, who was practically unresponsive in the angel connection.  The only response Sam had managed to get was that he was around here somewhere. 

The flowers and ivy grew thicker until they covered the ground completely and piled over each other.  Then Sam saw a mound of feathers that broke up all the flora, tawny feathers with highlights of black.  He hurried over, fearing his brother might be injured, but relaxed when he saw no injuries.  What he did see, however, was his brother’s bare backside.  He tilted his head, wondering what possessed him to remove his clothes; angels never did that.  Not for any particular reason, it was just something they didn’t do. 

Sam knelt down beside Dean and shook his shoulder.  In response, Dean grumbled and lazily swatted at Sam with one wing, revealing the black highlight to another angel’s wing.  A few more shakes earned more lazy swatting, even from the other angel, who turned out to be Castiel.  Who had also forgone his robes.  He knitted his brows together, wanting to know the explanation, but had to remind himself there was a far more pressing matter at hand.

“Dean, wake up,” Sam said.

“Go ‘way…” Dean mumbled.

“Dean, come on.  I need to ask you something.”

Dean gave an annoyed grumble.

“Seriously, it’s important.”

“Fine,” Dean sighed, “What?”

“Where’s Lilith?”

“Probably with Adam, why?”

“She’s not,” Sam replied, “And because no one can find her.  She’s not anywhere in the garden.”

Dean scowled, waking up more now and half rolling over to look at Sam.  When Sam didn’t change his expression, Dean worked to untangle himself from Castiel, much to Castiel’s protests.  He sat up, snatching his robe from where it had fallen and started to put it back on when he froze, looking all around them.

“…Where did these flowers come from?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know, but that doesn’t matter.  We need to find Lilith.”

“Right.”

Sam took off, blasting the flowers and sending petals everywhere.  Dean pulled his clothes on the rest of the way, then turning to wake Castiel up as well.  He grumbled and whined, trying to burrow back into the warmth, but that was lost when Dean stood up.  Castiel sighed and pushed himself up, furrowing his brows at the sudden appearance of the field of flowers and looked up to Dean for answer.

“I don’t know,” Dean shrugged, “But Lilith’s missing.  We have to go find her.”

Castiel got to his hands and knees, feeling his way through the thick clusters of flowers in search of his robe.  Once he’d found it, he quickly put it on and followed Dean as he took to the sky in search of the missing human.  There were hundreds of angels searching the garden and, according to the angel connection, thousands of them searching outside the garden for her.  Sam had said she wasn’t in Eden, but perhaps they were keeping an eye for her return.  Dean turned and headed for the gate, blowing right through it to join the search outside. 

The forests were too dense to see anything, but he couldn’t feel any life coming from it either.  Not Lilith’s life, anyway.  There were hundreds of animals not seen in Eden hiding down below the canopy, as well as a handful of small, weakened leviathans.  The dying grasslands didn’t hold much difference, though he could see the creatures that inhabited the area.  They looked stronger and more fierce than Eden’s residents; more fearsome in that Dean and Castiel both saw groups of them dining on the flesh of other animals.  And a few angels.

“What are those?” Castiel asked.

“…Hunters and scavengers,” Dean replied lowly.

Castiel stared down at animal in a tree with a skeleton, _leopard_ , and staring back up at them.  The animal had decided not only to kill and eat another animal, but also felt it necessary to drag the unfortunate creature up a tree for display.  Castiel suppressed a shudder and followed Dean as he banked towards the mountains.

There were fewer inhabitants there, but they were no less strange.  There were still small bones littered about the rocks, animals climbing up and pausing to stare at them, and now large birds taking off after them.  The birds kept their distance, but Dean and Castiel could sense them deliberating whether or not they were going to try to attack them.  Eventually, they decided on the latter. 

The mountains became more abrupt and sheer-faced, turning into a fjord.  There were no animals here, but there was something living.  From the vile nature Dean could feel, he thought for a moment it might be a leviathan.  But there was something off about it.  Whatever it was possessed a sentience the leviathans lacked.  Dean dove down between the cliffs, closer to where the thing was.  Castiel remained just a little higher than him, not feeling it was safe enough to go so low.  Everything around them was quiet, even the water hardly made a sound. 

It felt like the creature was right there, but Dean couldn’t see it.  He slowed down to hover above the water, twisting around and examining all the niches in the cliff faces.  It had to be here somewhere.  Castiel scanned over the tops of the cliffs, but found nothing.  Dean could feel it creeping along the cliff face, it was inside a tunnel.  No, it was _making_ a tunnel.  Just as he started to drift closer, the rocks of the cliff burst and the creature lunged at him with a shrill scream. 

Sharp claws latched onto him, tearing into his skin and restraining one wing.  He faltered and fought with the creature, trying to keep its gnashing teeth away from him as he kept them both aloft.  He tried to pry it off him, but it was quick to reattach itself and try to rip some part of him off. 

Castiel dove down and intentionally collided with them, sending both Dean and the thing into the cliff.  It wasn’t the best plan, but it managed to knock the thing off of Dean.  Dean righted himself and whipped around to face the creature clinging to the rocks.  It hissed and glared at them; long claws digging into the rocks, lips curled back over mismatched and jagged teeth, ivory eyes, skin looking charred with a scar around its middle like something had grabbed it….  It was an abomination.

Dean snarled and charged for the creature, with all intentions of destroying whatever it was.  The creature howled and started to burrow back into the cliff, but Dean caught it by the ankle and ripped it away.  He held the thing out from himself, keeping out of its reach, and moved to smite it.

“ _Liars!_ ” the thing hissed.

Dean froze, put off by its rough voice.

“ _Angels are liars!”_

He knew he should just get on with it, but there was something nagging at him to wait a moment longer.  He glanced at Castiel, who appeared to be thinking the same thing.

“ _You promised to protect me!_ ” it wailed, “ _And you left me!”_

Dean’s eyes went wide and he nearly dropped it— _her_.  This thing, somehow it was Lilith.  All the purity and gentleness was gone, there was only fear, hate and corruption.  But it was Lilith.  Both Dean and Castiel remained still, too appalled to move.  Lilith continued to writhe and wail in Dean’s grip, going on about angels lying and being abandoned.  When he finally came back to his senses, Dean tossed Lilith up and took hold of her in another position to restrain all her limbs.  He immediately reached through the angel connection, notifying the archangels and seraphim first that he had Lilith.  Then he flooded it to call all the other angels off the search.

Lilith snapped and snarled the entire way back to Eden, Dean tried to ignore her and Castiel could only stare and wonder what happened to her.  All the angels had to gather at the gates, but Dean chose to land outside them.  Whatever had happened to her, he decided she was too impure to be welcomed back into Eden.  The angels crowded closer to get a look at the abomination in his hold, but maintained a distance away from him.  They only parted when Michael came striding forward, bewildered and angry.

“What happened?” Michael barked.

“I don’t know,” Dean answered tensely.

Lilith thrashed around and managed to slash Dean’s hips.  He flinched at the sudden action, but the wound was quickly healed.

“Release her,” Michael ordered.

Dean cast her forward, a little more roughly than he intended.  She stumbled and went to get to her feet, only to find herself bound by invisible restraints.

“ _What happened?!_ ” Michael bellowed.

His eyes scanned over all the angels in search of someone, anyone who knew anything.  Most of them shrank back.

“Who was with her last?” Michael shouted.

Only one angel spoke up, all the others turned to face him.

“It was not me,” Gadreel started, “But Lucifer did leave Eden with her.”

Then the entire Heavenly host turned its eyes on the archangel.

“Did he return with her at all?” Michael asked, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“He has not returned until now,” Gadreel answered.

Whatever had happened, it was clear it was somehow Lucifer’s fault.  But he didn’t seem upset or defensive at Gadreel ratting him out.  Only slightly annoyed.

“ _Lucifer,_ ” Michael hissed, “What have you done?”

“I’m simply showing everyone what Father wants us to worship,” Lucifer replied casually.

“This is not what he wanted us to worship!” Michael snapped.

“It’s not?  As far as I can tell, that is still the… _creature_ he made.”

“No, you’ve defiled her— Corrupted her!  That is no longer the human Father blessed Adam with.  That is…is…” Michael’s snarling stalled, searching for the word, “That is a _demon_!”

The word bore more weight than any angel anticipated, striking a deep unsettling in all their hearts.  Even the other archangels and seraphim seemed disturbed by it.  Lucifer shifted his wings, standing up taller and looked down at Michael.

“Call it what you want, but that is Lilith.  Will you still worship and revere her?” Lucifer challenged.

Now it was Michael was shifting and standing to make himself taller, even flaring his wings out.  His jaw was clenched so tightly, it was a wonder he didn’t shatter every tooth in his mouth.  His eyes darted angrily between Lucifer and the thing that was once Lilith, trying to make a decision— praying for help to make a decision.  When he had his answer, he beat his wings and snapped them open as he stalked over to the demon in long strides.

The demon growled at Michael’s words, snapping its teeth and crouching low as it shrank back from him.  The closer he got, the more fearful it became; no doubt it could see an illusion of his trueform around him.

“No, I will not do anything for this demon,” Michael growled.

The demon tried to lunge for Michael, only to find its face in his crushing grip.

“Except wipe it from existence.”

Grace burned in his palm as he tightened his grip.  The demon howled in sheer agony, clawing desperately at his hand and arm.  His grace burrowed into the creature, burning its insides with a pure fire that spilled out in rays of light from its eyes and mouth.  The demon seized, brilliance fading and a high pitched ringing taking its place, for a moment before going completely limp, suspended by Michael until he threw the body aside.  Michael turned deliberately on his heels, fixing a glare on Lucifer.

“And _you_ ,” Michael seethed, “You’ve done nothing but fight and question everything.  But now you have truly crossed the line.”

“Did I really though?” Lucifer asked, “What did I actually do?  I just took her outside of Eden, then her true colors came through.  Father is creating horrible things to inhabit this beautiful place and—“

“ _Enough!_ ” Michael roared, “You are the one who ruined his most precious creature and you will be punished for it!”

“Who here thinks I ruined Lilith?” Lucifer called, turning to face the other angels, “Who thinks I did anything wrong?”

There was hushed whispering among the angels and uneasy shifting.  None of the angels knew enough about what happened and Lucifer was keeping just enough from the angel connection to make it an unfair question.  Still, both he and Michael waited for an answer.

“…I don’t.”

Every head snapped in the direction of the voice in shock.  Michael turned on it slowly with rage written all over his face.  Lucifer wore a look of smug pride; and Dean was horrified.  Sam’s eyes flicked from angel to angel, swallowing thickly, but not changing his answer.

“You don’t think so?” Michael hissed.

“Sam, don’t—“ Dean whispered.

“Silence!” Michael barked, “Samuel, you agree with Lucifer?”

“I…I do,” Sam replied, “He’s right.  This place, it’s beautiful and Father sends an asteroid of monsters?  Ones that can ruin it— that did ruin it?  And then he fills it with all these animals, only to have half of them eat the others?  And…and ‘his most precious creature’ has such a major flaw that it can become… _that_?”

“You have no faith in Father, you doubt him.  Just like Lucifer.  And for that, you will be punished alongside him,” Michael said.

“You can’t do that,” Dean snapped, “Just because they don’t know Father’s plans and have doubts, you can’t punish them for that.”

“Do you want to join them?”

“No, ‘course not.  But if you’d just tell them what’s going on, they wouldn’t doubt anything.”

“They don’t need to know, they need to have faith.”

“Michael—“

“If anyone chooses to have doubt over faith, or agrees with Lucifer and Samuel, make yourselves known!”

Tension and unease filled the air.  The angels were restless and fearful; until one moved.  The angel cautiously made her way over to Lucifer, standing beside him.  She fidgeted with her robes for a minute, before taking a deep breath and looking up.

“Lucifer and Samuel are right,” she spoke, “Faith…it’s not enough for me.”

There was more restlessness among the angels now.  A few more walked over to side with Lucifer, adding to his smugness and Michael’s dismay.  Bravery crept among the angels as even more moved to side with Lucifer until there was a steady flow of angels making their decision to stand with him, all proclaiming similar things: these creatures were horrible, they had doubts, the humans were flawed through no fault of Lucifer.

Without prompting, angels then began to move to Michael’s side.  They all believed there was a reason, their faith knew no bounds and believed Lucifer guilty of corruption.  All the angels had now chosen a side.

And Castiel stood with Lucifer.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think i just did literally 70% of this in one sitting. and how dare i leave this on a cliff hanger. WITH ONE CHAPTER LEFT OH MAN WHAT'S GONNA HAPPEN tbh you guys might need a while set aside when the next update comes out because it is going to be loooong.  
> also i had to look up what baby chipmunks were called because i didn't know which i realized i didn't know after i changed the animal from foxes to chipmunks because i decided that Eden only has herbivores.  
> and i'd like to thank everyone who was patient in waiting for this update :D you are all amazing and sometimes i use your comments to promo my fic on [my tumblr](http://leo-arcana.tumblr.com)


	7. The Seventh Day Part 1: The Fall

_Cas, don’t do this.  Please._

_Dean, you know Lucifer is right._

_I know he is, but—_

_But what?_

_But I can’t, Cas.  I can’t just pick sides like you._

_Why?  Just because you’re Michael’s general?_

_General is a fancy title for weapon, Cas.  I’m a weapon, his weapon.  I have to stay with him and if you’re on the other side…_

Dean’s voice trailed off and the cacophony of other angels’ voices filled Castiel’s mind again.  He hadn’t given it any consideration because he thought Dean would be on his side as well.  He had no idea Dean was literally incapable of switching sides.  But regardless, Castiel would rather fight for Lucifer’s stance than Michael’s.  Castiel swallowed and took a deep breath.  He was doing the right thing, everything would be fine.  God always sided with those in the right… right?  This was the first conflict that would demand to know such a thing.  Squabbles between Michael and Lucifer, those were personal matters that didn’t require intervention.  But now the entire Host stood at odds with itself.

_Cas, please…_

_I…  I will see you when this is over._

_You can’t—_

_I promise._

There was silence, but it didn’t fill with the voices of their brothers and sisters.It was if they stood alone in silence with each other.

“You’ve all made your choices then,” Michael growled, “This is truly a shame.”

Michael held out his and Dean knew what he wanted.  Dean hesitated.  His brother and his— mate, the word seemed to be— were standing in opposition and Michael was fully intent on cutting them down.  Even if they were on Michael’s side, he would still hesitate.  He didn’t want to be the one to cleave their brothers and sisters.

Michael was impatient though.  He turned his head to Dean, lips curling slightly in agitation.  Dean felt a sharp tug on his grace; Michael was pulling him by his very being.  Dean’s body moved robotically as he tried to fight it, knowing full well the fight was in vain.  He cast one more pleading look to Sam and Castiel.  He would be able to find a way to cope with killing their brothers and sisters, but he would never cope with killing his actual brother and mate.  Neither Sam or Castiel moved from their place.  Dean dropped his head in defeat and went to Michael.  He let his grace surge through him and expand, swallowing this condensed form into the heart of the gleaming hilt of the Michael Sword, lengthening and sharpening into a wicked blade.

At the same moment, Michael abandoned his compressed form and stood in his full glory, lording over Lucifer in his compressed body.  Michael snatched the handle and swung the sword, sparking the tip across the ground in front of him.  Lucifer tilted his head back, eyeing Michael.

“You’re serious this time, then,” Lucifer commented.

There was a tinge of questioning in his statement, discreetly alluding to the other angels that they’d argued and fought before.  Lucifer waited just a beat longer, in hopes Michael might reconsider, but when he didn’t, Lucifer dropped his head with a sigh and gave him his small form for his true self, holding his hand out for Sam.  Sam was more compliant than Dean.  He believed in what his archangel was doing, he didn’t fear for his brother’s life; he believed Dean would be fine.  Sam’s grace erupted upwards, forking at the top into frighteningly sharp prongs.

There was a moment of the greatest tension the Earth would ever know.  The lesser angels kept still, eyes darting between the two archangels and the ones who stood with them.  Michael and Lucifer glared hatefully into each other’s eyes, trying to shake the other’s confidence.  Of course, with their

levels of conviction, that didn’t work.  It only served to anger Lucifer and enrage Michael.  At the same instant, Michael and Lucifer lunged for each other.   

The clash of metal sent of shower of sparks reigning down over the earth, singing its surface and provoking the lesser angels into fighting.  The angels rushed towards each other, drawing own light weight weapons on each other as they made sure to give the archangels a wide berth.

The roar of the warring angels was almost as deafening as the roar of the leviathans.  Despite that, they were completely muted by every sound Michael and Lucifer made.  Their cries of rage and frustration rivaled that of a sonic boom.  The metal of the weapons shrieked like raw lightening, too violent and powerful to wait for the thunder, as their indestructible edges ground against each other.

               

Honestly, Castiel didn’t want to fight.  There were better ways to resolve this, he was sure of it.  He didn’t want to take any of his brothers and sisters lives, he didn’t want to call that unnerving entity Death on them.  So, as much as he believed Lucifer was in the right, he didn’t fight.  He only did what was necessary to defend himself and no more.

It didn’t take long for the battle to escalate.  The angels were unleashing their own trueforms in an effort to overwhelm and crush others before they had a change to transform and defend themselves.  One such angel came for Castiel, jaws stretched wide and rows of razor teeth glinting in the sunlight.  Castiel shot up higher into the sky, narrowly avoiding the angel’s teeth, but losing his robe to the angel.  As soon as the fabric tore from his body in the close call, he accepted that he would have to fight and loosed his own form.

He landed on his hands and feet; his skin a deep blue, almost blackened by the lines of vibrant grace lacing over his skin.  His eyes glowed with the same fiery blue, set in a featureless face.  He flared his wings in confidence and his straightened his back out, lengthening his skeletal body.  Being an angel of higher rank, Castiel was by nature larger than the other angels, though still nothing in comparison to an archangel.

The first angel to challenge, brave as they were, was smaller than Castiel.  He swept his hand over the ground and curled long, bony fingers are the smaller beast and hurled them aside like a ragdoll.  The second was crushed beneath his foot.  He still didn’t want to harm his brethren and spared them from fatal blows, but he did seek out fights now.  Though More in an effort to break them up and incapacitate the fighting angels.

Above them all, Michael and Lucifer had taken to the skies, up into the atmosphere.  Their battle had disrupted the weather now.  Clouds whipped and curled around them, darkening as they collided with themselves to create denser clouds.  The clash of their weapons sparked lightning and rolling thunder.  When Michael swung his sword, he sent vicious gale force winds that blasted apart the earth it struck and sent tidal wives where it hit water.  When Lucifer spun his pitch fork, swirling winds gathered up the storm clouds and descended in tornadoes and hurricanes.

Lucifer lunged for Michael.  Michael parried the attack, thrusting his sword between the prongs and attempted to spin the weapon from Lucifer’s hands.  But the other archangel caught on and counter spun, putting them both at a stalemate with grinding weapons sending a rain of fiery sparks down on the angels below.  Lucifer tweaked the angle he held the pitch fork at and gained the advantage, effectively twisting the sword out of Michael’s hands.  The Michael Sword tumbled through the air, vanishing beneath the storming clouds with a puff and piercing into the ground, half way up the blade.  Over a dozen angels had just been slain by the falling weapon.

Lucifer slashed at Michael, carving three wounds into him.  Michael’s grace flared out in reaction, but the wounds sealed themselves almost immediately.  Before Lucifer had finished his swing, Michael had surged forward and locked his hands on Lucifer’s.  The roared and bellowed in each other’s faces, loud enough to mute the thunder around them.  Michael struggled against Lucifer, trying to wrest the weapon away. 

A sudden hard kick to the chest and Michael was successful.  He drew his arm back and hurled the pitch fork at Lucifer.  The weapon pierced into his wing and shot him down towards the earth and pinned him.  Michael came screaming down after him and slammed his full weight into Lucifer, burying him into a crater.

Miles away, closer to where the battle had originally started, Castiel was beginning to be overwhelmed.  Angels of equal rank had come to challenge him.  The ones who stood with Lucifer had done their best to help, but as the war raged on, it was Lucifer’s side who was losing soldiers fast.  Two angels tackled Castiel, dragging him along the ground and carving a shallow valley.  One held him down while the other rose up to strike him. 

In that moment, he prayed.  Not to God, but to Dean.

He closed his eyes as the angel came down on him, ready to embrace the blow, but it never came.  Instead, he felt the cool viscous rain of grace on his body.  He opened his eyes to see the wavering body of an angel; what remained of it.  The one about to strike had lost its upper body and was pouring grace profusely.  While cool to Castiel’s own thick skin, the grace burned the earth beneath him.  The angel still holding him down searched frantically for what had slain its partner, as did Castiel.

There was a glint to the far right, catching both their attention.  By the spread of tawny wings, Castiel knew it was Dean, but how he had managed to cleave the trueformed angel in half like that—  There was an eruption of grace and the flash of light on metal as the Michael Sword spun through the air once more and decapitated the other angel.  The blade once more buried itself into the ground as it came to a stop and the angel’s head struck Castiel’s own as its body collapsed on top of him, spilling out grace and thoroughly singing the earth as it pooled with the other angel’s grace.

In a flash, Dean was a smaller six winged seraph again, soaring right for Castiel.  Castiel turned over onto his hands and feet again, shuffling his wings as the seraph flared his and hovered in front of his face.

“Be more careful,” Dean admonished lightly.

“I will try to do that,” Castiel replied dryly.

Dean flashed him a grin before tearing through sky to return to Michael.

The fight between the archangels had lost the need for weapons for now.  Lucifer and Michael wrestled with each other, slamming each other into mountains, holding each other under water and baiting the Leviathans.  More than one Leviathan had managed to land a tentacle on either archangel, but that beast then lost its appendage.

Lucifer spun Michael around, starting a maelstrom in the ocean, and threw him into the side of cliff.  The cliff face crumbled beneath Michael’s awesome form, collapsing down into a gentle, rocky slope.  As Lucifer came for a successive blow, Dean felt a powerful pull from Michael that dragged him along faster than he could fly.  Dean was blade in Michael’s hand faster than he could blink and, just as fast, was being stabbed through Lucifer’s ribs.

Michael twisted the blade, cracking and breaking the bones, then kicked Lucifer in the stomach to dislodge him.  He staggered backwards and Michael was on him again, swinging fast and violent.  Bursts of grace flared out from his body with every successive hit and permanently blinding anything foolish enough to look their way.  Lucifer reached out for his pitch fork, for Sam, and was just barely able to deflect a blow that would’ve cleaved his left wing clear off. 

The sharp weapons clashed again, now more fiercely than before and rang high-pitched enough to make any lesser creature’s ears bleed.  Lucifer lanced forward, aiming for Michael’s throat.  But the archangel sidestepped him and swung back, at the last moment suddenly changing the course of his swing and struck Lucifer’s halo.

There was resonating boom far too deep to be heard by anything walking the earth, even Michael wasn’t sure he’d heard it.  Both archangels went stone still in shock and waited.  Cracks raced like lightning around Lucifer’s halo and it began to crumble.  He screamed in pain and threw his pitch fork blindly in favor of raking his claws down is face.  The halo continued breaking, pieces falling into the ocean as Michael staggered back in horror, watching his brother collapse into a writhing heap.

Lucifer’s cries of agony had brought the war to a grinding halt.  Angels all over the earth turned in his direction with wide eyes and ice in their hearts.  Lucifer’s halo lost another piece as it continued to splinter and it was no longer able to remain aloft above his head.  The halo fell and lost several more pieces as it collided with his head.  His grace then acted of its own accord to spare his pain and save what remained of his halo.  The grace arched out and wrapped tendrils around the halo, binding it to his head and stabilizing it.

His cries and screams of pain quieted, but didn’t stop.  The remains of the halo rested heavily on his head, grace flowed through the cracks to hold it together, but the missing pieces weren’t restored.  The halo sat like a pair of great, gaudy horns atop his head.

When Michael regained himself, he used his grace along with Dean’s to create binding chains of holy grace.  The chains wrapped around Lucifer, who let them bind him.  He was still in so much pain; he was certain cleaving his body in half would be less painful than this.  The chains tightened around him, pinning his wings and arms to his body.  Michael said nothing as he approached his fallen brother, he couldn’t say anything as he stared up at him with pained and hateful eyes.

Michael swung the sword gentle to direct the extension of their graces, lifting Lucifer from the ocean skyward.  He released Dean then, having a steady hold on the chains and Lucifer.  Dean felt Michael’s command to make sure all the angels who allied themselves with Lucifer were to be restrained in a similar manner and escorted back to Heaven.

Dean lacked the power to create such extensive restraints on his own, but he was able to bind the hands of many angels behind their backs as they were forced back into their compressed forms.  Several captains who still pledged allegiance to Michael were able to do the same.  The losses of angel lives had left them in a ratio of two angels for Michael to only one for Lucifer.  Keeping that ratio, two angels escorted each prisoner back to Heaven, since those imprisoned were temporarily unable to fly.

However, Dean personally saw to the escort of both Sam and Castiel.  He’d been asked if he needed help, or if some of the other angels could take one of them, but he adamantly, and somewhat angrily, denied them.  He held Sam’s upper arm in his left hand, Castiel’s in his right.

The flight back to Heaven was beyond dead silent.  On occasion, Sam and Castiel would glance up at Dean’s face.  But he never looked at either of them.  If he looked anywhere other than straight ahead, it was down at the vastness below them.  He made a point to keep his expression as neutral as possible, though there wasn’t much point.  They could feel his lament growing as they approached Heaven.

When they reached Heaven, no angel was released.  Instead, they were all brought to a new building.  It had looked small and insignificant on the outside, but it buried itself into the ground and opened into vast dark maze of stony halls, lined with cells.  Periodically, there would be a holy crystal mounted to the wall, giving off just enough light to illuminate a hand full of the metal bars acting as doors before the cells and give off an eerie feeling.

At this point, only Dean and a few captains were now moving the prisoners.  They took them each to specific cells, depending on the angel, the size and strength of their trueform, and was level of transgression Michael judged them with.  They were all guilty in his eyes, of course.  But he took some mercy on a few who had only blindly followed or made a rash split second decision without thought.  They were kept closer to the surface with less security.  Those who had willfully stood with Lucifer were brought down lower.  Lower still were the cells for those who now harbored hatred towards Michael for what he had down.  And in the deepest depths of the prison, isolated and painted up with sigils to prevent any form of contact with any angel, was Lucifer’s own cell.  He had been chained down with real chains now, more sigils carved into the cuffs and painted down every link of the chain.

Castiel had been placed in a mid-level cell for his transgressions.  He wasn’t sure where Sam had been placed, but it was most likely the lowest level; if not his own isolation next to Lucifer.  Castiel paced idly around the cell, simultaneously wondering and trying not to think about what punishment awaited him and the others.  Or if this was it, to remain locked in the dark for the rest of eternity.  He thought about various punishments versus being stuck here forever, turning it into a sort of game.  At what point would he choose imprisonment over punishment.  He’d take any punishment’s extremity up to the level of the war.  But if the option came down to imprisonment or having his halo stricken like Lucifer, he would chose imprisonment in a heartbeat.

Every now and again, an angel would walk down the halls to check on them.  Castiel didn’t know what they were paranoid about happening.  Lucifer’s cell wasn’t the only one decorated with confining sigils.  Perhaps they were just bored.

He heard the footsteps of an approaching angel, but this one sounded a bit different.  They walked faster and with intent.  Castiel walked up to the bars of his cell and pressed his face between them in an effort to see who was coming.  The ‘angel radio’ didn’t work down here, at least not for him.  It was likely he’d been cut off from it.  In a hurry, Dean rounded the corner and made a beeline for Castiel.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel spoke carefully.

Dean didn’t say anything, he barely even looked at him.  He worked his fingers deftly over the lock on the cell door.  The lock responded to Dean’s touch and gave a light, pinging click as it unlocked.  Dean slid the door open and grabbed Castiel by the arm.  He dragged him out and continued on down the hall at the same hurried pace as before.

“Dean, what’re you doing?”

“Shh, don’t talk,” Dean warned.

Castiel cocked his head at Dean and was tempted to pull back.  Something was wrong and going lower into the prison seemed like a terrible idea.  But he trusted Dean.  He followed him down, glancing in the cells they passed.  Some angels kept their backs turned, some came to their doors and watched them suspiciously, others raved in their cells at their imprisonment.

Castiel wasn’t sure how far down the prison went, but they had to be reaching near Lucifer’s cell at this point.  They went down another level and sure enough, they had reached the bottom.  No light reached down here and Castiel couldn’t see the number of isolation cells.  Dean led him down the hall over across the threshold of one such cell and shut the door behind them, but didn’t lock it.

“Michael won’t hear anything now,” Dean said.

“Dean, what’s going on?”

“Michael’s planning to exile Lucifer and everyone who sided with him.”

“What?”

“Everyone, everyone cast out and never allowed to return.”

“But how can he—“

“I don’t know, he says it’s Father’s will,” Dean shrugged helplessly.

Castiel stood in the darkness, staring at what he thought was the floor. 

“And he’s not just throwing everyone out,” Dean added, “He’s— casting them down.  To some place called ‘Hell’.”

Even just the name sent shivers down Castiel’s spine.

“Anyone who repents and submits to him will be spared, but he’s not offering that to anyone.”

“That’s completely unfair.”

“I know, but that’s why I brought you down here.  Cas, I don’t want you to go to Hell,” Dean’s voice wavered, “The way Michael’s talked about it— You’ll be in the same pain Lucifer was.  For eternity.”

Castiel’s breath caught in his throat and the darkened room closed in on him.  A beat later, Dean’s hands were on him and drawing him in close.  His arms snaked around his wings gently, one hand moving up to the back of his head and holding it to the crook of his neck. 

“What do I do?” Castiel whispered.

“Just repent and—“

“Dean, I can’t do that.  He’ll know I won’t mean and he’ll cast me down anyway.”

“I won’t let him,” Dean promised, “I’ll— I’ll think of something.”

“When is he going to do it?”

“Soon…  Very soon,” Dean admitted.

Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean, curling his fingers into the soft, downy feathers of his wings.  He relaxed against Dean’s body and let him hold his weight.  Holding Castiel wasn’t difficult at all, but Dean tipped back against the wall anyway and slid them down to the floor.  Castiel hugged him tighter as he blocked out the thoughts of Hell; he would be tortured for the rest of existence and would never see Dean again.  At that, there was a sudden pang of heat burning in the pit of Castiel’s stomach.  It was the same desire he’d experienced before, but now it was accented with fear and desperation.  This could very well be the last moment he and Dean had together and he would be damned— literally— if he didn’t take this opportunity to make love one more time.

He kept his face buried in the crook of Dean’s neck and slid one hand down from Dean’s wings and worked it under his robes.  Dean tensed for a second when Castiel’s hand cupped his cock and balls and started groping him.  Dean hummed beneath him and held him tighter as his cock slowly began to fill.

“What’re you doing?” Dean huffed.

“Taking advantage before I go to Hell.”

“That’s not funny.”

“It’s not a joke.”

“I’ll f-figure out something,” Dean promised.     

Castiel hummed in acknowledgement.  Anything else he could think of in response at the moment would only invite an argument and that was the opposite of what he wanted.  Castiel pulled away from Dean and sat up on his knees, still massaging Dean’s cock and balls, and leaned forward in a blind search for Dean’s face.  His lips found Dean’s nose first, then his cheek as Dean moved his head, then he found Dean’s lips.  Dean moved his hands to the back of Castiel’s head, holding him steady as he took the lead, parting his lips and catching Castiel’s lightly between his teeth in affection nips.

Castiel removed his hand, much to Dean’s dislike, and fumbled at Dean’s robes to move them entirely out of the way.  He bunched his own robes, hissing as they brushed his hardening cock, and repositioned himself above Dean’s fully hard cock.  He reached down behind himself and curled his fingers around Dean’s cock.  Dean’s hands ran down his sides to his hips and guided Castiel down.  He rubbed little circles with his thumbs on his hips as he cockhead pressed at Castiel’s entrance.  Dean tightened his grip as he slid Castiel down on him.

Castiel’s lips had never left his, until now.  He rested his forehead against Dean’s and panted in the small space between their mouths.  Dean recaptured his lips to keep him breathless and urged him with his hands to lift his hips.  Castiel obeyed, moving up and sliding down slowly, taking Dean to the hilt.  He rose up again and cupped Dean’s face in his hands, deepening the kiss between as he came down again and rolled his hips.

“Do that again,” Dean rasped.

He repeated his motion, this time a little faster, and drew out a groan from Dean.  He moved faster and rolled his hips differently as he moved, savoring the moans and whimpers spilling from Dean.  Even more so when Dean became the one breathless beneath him and needy.  Castiel changed his angle again and managed to find his prostate and let out a low, filthy moan.  Dean was all for that sound and curled his fingers into Castiel’s flesh, keeping him in that position.  He lifted Castiel halfway off his dick and started thrusting up into him.  He hit Castiel’s prostate on every thrust and the angel in his hands melted into a whimpering, noisy mess.

The sounds of their moaning and sliding flesh echoed dully off the walls of the cell they’d taken.  Hearing themselves served to heighten their pleasure and made them act out louder.  Any worries about being heard were far from their minds.  Michael was unaware of anything that happened in isolation rooms.  If Lucifer or Sam were able to hear anything, they do or say nothing about it.  Actually, the thought that the seraph and archangel maybe able to hear them drove them into a frenzy.

Castiel’s breath was punched out in whimpers and whines as he raked his fingers down Dean’s chest.  Dean grunted and groaned and fucked up into Castiel’s tight heat until he couldn’t stand it anymore.  He gripped Castiel’s hips in a near crushing hold and slammed him down on cock, burying himself as deeply as he could as he came inside the other angel.  Castiel cried out as Dean’s cock pumped and twitched inside him and filled him up.  Impulsively, Castiel reached trembling hand down to his own dick and began to stroke it.

But Dean pushed his hand off, resulting in a desperate cry, and wrapped his own fingers around him.  He pumped him quickly, faster than Castiel would’ve been able to with his trembling hand, and Castiel spilled over Dean’s fingers and onto his lower stomach.

He slumped against Dean, completely spent and gasping for breath.  Dean’s arms were around him again, pulling him flush against his body.

“I will find a way to save you,” Dean breathed softly.

“Please…” Castiel whimpered.

He nuzzled his face into the crook of Dean’s neck in an effort to stave off the fearful tears beginning to sting his eyes.  They stayed like that for a moment or two before Dean shifted beneath him.  Castiel whined weakly when Dean’s softening cock slipped out of him and his cum began to dribble out.  Dean readjusted his hold on Castiel as he awkwardly got to his feet.  He didn’t set Castiel down, he just moved him again to hold him in a way that would later be called ‘bridal style’.

Dean carried Castiel back out of the cell and walked at a more relaxed pace back up to the cell Castiel had been in.  He didn’t want to put Castiel back in it, but he also didn’t want to risk Michael coming up with something worse than Hell if he found Castiel escaped.  He set him gently on the floor of the cell and placed a tender kiss to his lips before he walked out with his head low and shoulders slumped.

He locked the door once more and made his way back up to the top, just as another patrolling angel came by.  Dean straightened himself up and squared his shoulders and carried himself like the general he was.  He could find a way to save Castiel and Sam.  He hadn’t spoken to Sam, but because of their bond, he didn’t need to.  He knew Sam knew he’d save him too.  And Dean knew Sam would refuse to repent and submit to Michael as well.  He just needed to come up with a way to falsify their fealty to him.  Maybe he could craft a spell or sigil that would make them behave.  It didn’t have to be much, just enough to make them obey as much as he was forced to.

Then Dean had an idea.  It would cost him dearly, but it would save them both of them.  Dean exited the prison and flew to the gates of Heaven.  Michael was at the gates, scratching and painting sigils and words on the walls supporting the gates.  Dean didn’t need to ask what they were for, he already knew.  They would temporarily transform the gates into a portal straight into Hell so that every angel might see the punishment awaiting them if any ever thought to rebel or challenge him again.

“You want to tell me something,” Michael stated.

“Yes.  Sam and Cas— Castiel want to repent and submit.”

“Do they now?  Why the change of heart?”

“They know about Hell.”

“You told them?”

“Yes,” Dean answered.

“Did you tell anyone else?”

“…No,” Dean admitted.

“I can understand your caring for Samuel, but this level of… love for Castiel, I must question it.”

Dean swallowed thickly.

“Though I’m not sure where to start.  No other angel has such a problem as they two of you do.”

Dean bit his tongue to keep him from spouting that it isn’t a problem.  They’d already had this discussion and nothing he said was going to convince Michael it wasn’t a problem.

“You shirk your duties for him and does the same for you.  He’s among thousands who rebelled knowingly and yet he is the only one you warn of Hell,” Michael spoke.

Michael stopped his work and stepped back to observe it.

“Telling you to stay away doesn’t work, threatening you or him doesn’t work.  It’s only ever strengthened your resolve.  I’ve tried to understand what it is, but I don’t.  I’ve prayed to Father that he explain it and all he’s said is it’s love.  But it’s not like the love between anything else,” Michael sighed.

Michael added one more thing to the wall and turned, walking down the stairs.  Dean followed after him as he made his way to towards his home.

“If he is genuine in his repentance, then I’ll spare him as I said.  _But_ , if he is only doing it out of fear or to remain with you, he will not be spared.  The same goes for Samuel.  Now, you and the captains bring the angels to the steps of the gates.”

Dean nodded and flew off to round up the other captains.  He instructed them to bring the angels to the courtyard; save for Sam and Lucifer.  They were of too high caliber and importance for them to bring out.  Dean would be escorting Sam and said that Michael would be escorting Lucifer.  The angels nodded at their orders and went into the prison, leading the now damned angels out into the courtyard.  As they went into the prison, Dean lifted an angel blade from one of them and hid it in his robes.

All the angels who brought out now carried a sense of fear through the angel radio, since they were reconnected outside of the prison walls.  Castiel’s fear and thoughts of Hell spread like wildfire through the damned angels sent them into a frenzy.  Those that tried to escape were struck down.  Those who tried to flee back into the prison were dragged back out.  The frenzy was building into a riot and more angels faithful to Michael were made to help control them.

They wept and pleaded as they were herded into the courtyard and gathered at the base of the steps to the gates.  They cried out desperately for Michael to spare and swore they would never stand against him.

Michael heard all their cries, but he didn’t respond yet.  He and Dean went down to the isolation cells to retrieve Sam and Lucifer.  Sam went easily with Dean, he only asked quietly if Dean had thought of anything.  He told his brother he had, but when Sam asked what it was, didn’t answer him.  Lucifer likewise went easily, still in tremendous pain, but glaring furiously at Michael in the dark.

They exited the prison and strode through the courtyard, Dean and Sam first.  The panicked angels parted around them and a few dared to reach out to either Dean or Michael in hopes they would take notice of their sincerity of spare them.  Both angels ignored them for now and made their way up the stairs.  They brought Sam and Lucifer up to the gates and turned them to face the whole of the Host.  Dean went back down the steps into the crowd in search of Castiel, while Michael only descended a quarter of the flight of stairs.

His voice thundered with a speech about rebellion and their mistreatment of their Father’s creations.  But Dean paid him no mind, he needed to find Castiel quickly and then get back up to Sam before Michael’s speech ended.  He pushed through the crowd of frightened angels, lightly smacking their hands away when they grabbed at him.  He found Castiel left of the center of the crowd and grabbed him with both hands by the shoulders.

“I know what to do, but you aren’t going to like it,” Dean whispered quickly.

“What are you planni— _What are you doing?”_ Castiel snapped quietly.

Dean had drawn the hidden blade and begun cutting small incisions into his arm and hand, then chest.  He kept them small in hopes of keeping the bright flare down and used his wings to shield inquiring eyes.

“Dean, stop it.  What are you doing?” Castiel hissed.

“Saving you,” Dean growled.

Castiel had never seen the sigil he was carving, if it was even supposed to be one.  He dropped the angel blade as his grace bleed out from his chest.  Actually bled out as it had for the angels Dean had slain over Castiel.  Whatever he had just done, it was fatal.

“By killing yourself?” Castiel bit, “How is that going to save me?”

“Like this.”

Dean forced his carved hand through the sigil and made Castiel sick to his stomach.  Pain and torture were quick to take over his face, breaking him down into tears and stifled cries.  He pulled at something within himself and his lower set of wings suddenly gave out, dropping limply down by his sides.  He held onto Castiel tightly with one hand to support himself and he kept pulling.  He gave a short bark of pain and a rolling growl.  Castiel could hear something like distant lightning crackling and his eyes went wide.

“A-are you _tearing your grace out?!_   Stop it, right now!”

Castiel’s hands flew up to Dean’s to stop him.  He let go with his one supporting hand and hit Castiel’s away.  With one more surge, he jerked his arm and just over half his core of grace came free.  The raw power flared brilliantly, blinding both of them and the few whole looked their direction before Dean could raise his wings to hide it. 

With as much strength as he could muster, Dean punched his hand into Castiel’s chest.  Castiel stopped breathing; his entire body stopped working.  The core of the seraph tore into his own to make room for itself and flooded his body with power, at the same time feeling like he was being forced to submit to a higher authority. 

Dean collapsed in front of Castiel, sinking to his knees and weak hands holding his hips to keep himself off the ground.  This was a terrible idea, but he was committed now.  He could hear Michael begin to pardon those who had cried and begged for salvation.  Dean pushed through the pain and willed his grace within Castiel to make him speak up for salvation.  With his grace, Castiel would submit to Michael.  The repentance may not be genuine, but he knew Michael was more concerned with obedience.

To Dean’s relief, and Castiel’s own shock, Castiel called out for salvation with the promise of fealty.  Michael was surprised by the sincerity and immediately suspicious.  He hadn’t noticed anything between Dean and Castiel, save for the brief flare of light.  Dean must’ve done something to make Castiel submit willingly, but he didn’t know what.  He tried to reach Dean through the angel radio, but the seraph was alarming absent.

Dean rose on shaking legs and staggered back from Castiel.  Castiel was still in too much shock at his plea for mercy and what Dean had done to do anything but stare at him as he tried in vain to straighten himself up.

“Told you I’d find a way,” Dean smirked weakly, “Now I gotta save Sam.”

Dean stumbled away, falling into a few other angels as his grace continued bleeding out and his core became unstable.  Once he made it to the front of the crowd, he collapsed outright.  Michael paused in his pardoning and stared his seraph weak and trembling below him.  His eyes went wide with concern, then narrowed in rage as he saw the carvings on his arm.

Dean tried to lift himself up, but his body wouldn’t support the movement.  All of his body’s energy was focused on a desperate attempt to stabilize his core and grace.  He needed to get to Sam somehow.  He needed to get what remained of his core into Sam so he too would feel the undeniable compulsion to obey Michael.

The archangel above him ceased his pardoning altogether.  He ignored the remainder of angels pleading genuinely and turned to the gates behind him.  He stormed over to the paintings and activated with them words spoken venomously.

The paintings broke into fire and the pearly gates shook violently.  They’re beautiful sheen was singed off by the fire, exposing a raw metal beneath the pearl.  The smooth metal caught fire and was warped by the heat, turning it wicked sharp and rougher as it blackened.  The gates shook hard enough that all the angels in attendance began to fear they would loose themselves from the wall. 

The gates flung open with a roar and a portal erupted behind them.  Fire hotter than any star burst through the portal and growled terrifying lifelike.  The blackest smoke bellowed out from the portal and charred everything it touched.  A blazing, endless inferno could be seen through the portal; a lake of fire and brimstone.

Michael crossed in front of the portal over to Lucifer.    

“You will join Lilith in Hell,” Michael seethed.

“I will _rule_ in Hell,” Lucifer growled.

“You would be king of nothing but beggars and the damned.”

“Better than to stand beside you a moment longer.”

Michael grabbed Lucifer by the chains that bound him.  For his posturing just now, terror filled him as his brother tightened his hold.  With all his strength and fury, Michael lifted Lucifer and hurled him through the portal.  If Lucifer screamed, it was muted by Hell’s victorious and gluttonous roar, spewing a blaze of fire into Heaven hot enough to raise the temperature of the whole kingdom to a scalding new height.

Michael shielded himself from the blaze and waited for it subside before he wheeled on Sam.  Adrenaline coursed through Dean and gave him the last boost of energy he needed to get off the ground.  He ran, unbalanced, up the stairs for his brother and landed a hand on him at the same time as Michael.

“I will not allow you to cheat his punishment as you did for Castiel,” Michael growled.

“Funny thing about that,” Dean wheezed, “I d-don’t have to listen to you so much now.”

“Then you will burn with him.”

“You need me.”

“I need an obedient weapon, not an insolent angel.”

Michael went to grab for Dean’s neck, intent on sacrificing Dean now.  He would give his seraph no more chances now and he was going to send that message to whomever may take his place.  Dean dug his hand into his chest for the rest of his core.  Michael released Sam and grabbed Dean’s arm, at first trying to stop him, then trying to keep his arm in place and thus his core.  Dean’s eyes burned a violent shade of green and he struggled against Michael, ever so slowly overpowering him.  He drew what was left of his core out of his chest and blinded every angel of the Host.

Michael couldn’t see, but it didn’t stop him from using all his strength to restrain Dean.  It should have been easy.  Michael was an archangel and Dean was now without what made him a seraph.  There was no reason he should still be overpowering Michael.

Sam hated this plan just as much as Castiel, maybe even more.  But he wouldn’t let his brother’s sacrifice be in vain.  Sam threw himself forward at Dean, hoping he had enough momentum to make up for Dean being unable to strike him as he’d done to Castiel.  He carried enough momentum for Dean’s hand to break through his chest, but not to reach his core.  Sam leaned forward, forcing himself to be impaled further.  Michael’s grip slipped and Dean’s arm plunged into Sam’s chest, slamming his core against Sam’s.

However, a seraph core didn’t take as kindly to another seraph core as it did to a less one.  The combination reacted unfavorably.  The graces shrieked like lightning against each other and threw out vicious waves of power, breaking the ornate stairs they stood atop.  The outburst of power escalated and cracked the walls that held the gates and opened chasms into the ground.  The ground under their feet began to give and opened into a void that should not exist.

The reacting graces gave a scream too high pitched and went beyond their hearing; that or it had deafened them.  Immediately following that, both cores went into meltdown and unleashed all their power, devouring Sam and Dean and throwing Michael back from them.

The blaze of light lingered for a time after that as the excess energy slowly settled down.  As sight began to return, there was no trace of either seraph.  Michael stared at the empty space, unsure what had happened.  If they had died, there would be evidence right there in front of him.  The explosion, he figured, must’ve flung them into the portal to Hell.

Michael rose to his feet carefully and turned on the Host.  A number of them in the front now lay dead at the feet of their brethren.  He took a deep breath and composed himself as well as he could.  Dean had made a fool and sham of him by over powering him, but he would not let that linger in the minds of the Host.  He shouted for their attention once more and made sure all eyes were back on him before reciting another incantation.

The portal surged in power and powerful winds swept through Heaven, knocking each of the damned off their feet.  The portal roared and the winds blew harder; the portal began to suck the doomed angels into itself.  Of the damned, only the pardon were able to resist it.  The angels tumbled over each other and a chorus of terrified screams rose up.  They tried to cling to the pardon, only to be ripped away from them.                

The flames of Hell poured through the portal as they were fed angels and belched suffocating black some smoke into the pure white Heaven.

 

Now far outside Heaven and surrounded by fire, Dean opened his eyes.  Panic raced through him at the sight of the fire, fearing he had failed.  That he and Sam had been sent to Hell despite his best efforts.  But this fire didn’t burn.  Even as it scorched his wings, Dean felt nothing.  He looked around himself and saw nothing of the lake of fire.  He saw brilliant stars zipping by, streaked with the color of auras and space clouds.  He was outside of Heaven, he was— He was falling.  He wasn’t an angel anymore.

Dean closed his eyes and felt a resonating emptiness inside himself.  He wanted to curl up on himself, but his body wouldn’t allow it.  He blinked his eyes open and tried to look for Sam.  He found trailing behind in his own blaze of fire.  Sam was falling too.  They were both going to die now.  He’d failed to save his brother.  But supposed maybe he didn’t; Sam wasn’t going to be tortured for eternity.  That should count as some kind of win, shouldn’t it?  If it did, it did nothing to console Dean. 

He closed his eyes one last time and listened to the rage of holy fire around intensify as his fall accelerated.  He willed himself to relax and to sleep now in the fire.  He was going to die when he collided with something and he wanted to make sure he didn’t see it coming or feel any of it.  The fire raged harder; he was approaching whatever was going to kill him.  He took a deep breath and was able to drift off, just before he impacted the earth.

He body was destroyed on impact and sent shock waves through the ground and leveled everything around him.  Sam impacted thousands of miles away; his site had been leveled and the ocean line temporarily blasted back.

It took months on earth, still not even half a day to an angel, for the destruction of their impact to settle.  Dust and debris had darkened the sky and chilled the earth for a time.  But when it finally did, the earth had something new.  At Dean’s point of impact, a massive, glittering green precious gem rested.  As it was now, it would be called a peridot.  But time had other plans.  The shimmering gem would be swallowed and broken apart by the shifting lands.  The fragments would meet with other elements and be crushed together and eventually give birth to emeralds, jades, tourmaline, chrysoprase, tsavorite, chrysoberyl, bloodstone and alexandrite amongst other soon to be valuable gemstones.

For Sam, his impact had gifted the earth with erinite.  Just as with Dean’s gift, the earth would break it and meld it into other gems; lime, topaz, chrysolite, morion, sapphire and indicolite and a number of others.  Some would collide with Dean’s and craft other new ones of all colors, but every single one would be of extreme value to humans at some point in their existence.

And to the angels; one in particular.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so since this chapter is actually really big and i've made you guys wait for so long, i've decided to break off a piece of it (like about a third as it stands). part 2 is being worked, i for real promise that, i've been on a frenzy with this fic the past week. but i'm so sad now because there were so many nice comments on the progress note i had and now they're gone ;_; i definitely took screen shots of them tho  
> i hope this is everything you guys have been waiting for!


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